


THoBM

by AevumAce



Category: The Haunting of Braidwood Manor (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst and Romance, Canon Compliant, Canon Continuation, F/F, Gen, Ghosts, Novelization, Paranormal, Post-Canon, Sibling Bonding, Thriller, the power of gay saved the day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23089861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AevumAce/pseuds/AevumAce
Summary: Hannah attempts to uncover the secrets of a seemingly abandoned estate in order to resolve herself of her brother's suicide but finds herself in a pocket dimension and meets the manor's residents. One of which is a gorgeous but easily flustered young woman.Basically a novel adaptation of the game The Haunting of Braidwood Manor.
Relationships: Eleanor Waverley/Main Character (The Haunting of Braidwood Manor)
Kudos: 15





	1. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Kinda late to the party but I fell in love with this story completely. Hannah is basically the MC's default name so I’ll be using that. Since PB’s not gonna make a sequel anytime soon, I wanted to explore what happened further than what we were given. I will be starting from the top to give them depth and hopefully relive the joy of watching the story unfold. I also hope I have stayed true to their characters. So enjoy!

Hannah woke to the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. She lived in a suite at Hartfeld University in Massachusetts. Exams have ended and the winter quarter won’t arrive till the end of January. Her housemates had all went home to their families for the holidays, but she opted to stay. She couldn’t stand to be around her folks for now. But with the recent occurrences, she figured it was a bad idea.

“Hello?”

Floorboards creaked just outside the door, and a shadow crept along the threshold. The shadow lingered for a moment, and then a knock sounded at the door. For some reason she can’t explain it, so she stayed quiet, hoping whoever’s outside will just move on… but knowing, deep down, that they won’t.

Hannah reached for the pocket knife she placed under her pillow. “Whoever’s there stay out! I’ve got a knife! You don’t scare me!”

The knocking sounded again, harder this time. Her teeth vibrating with each fall of the visitor’s fist upon the door.

“Who are you?! Just go… please…” Her firm resolve was slowly vanishing.

The door started to bend and crack, the wood splintering inward until finally, the door flew off its hinges. 

“No! Stay out!”

A silhouetted figure loomed in the doorway, wreathed in fire.

“Please… don’t come in!”

“Did you forget me?” A familiar voice asked.

Hannah was about to point the knife at the intruder when the figure drew closer, the flames spreading through the room, choking the air with smoke.

“Did you forget what you did to me?” The figure said. “What you did to your only brother?”

Hannah dropped her firm hold on the knife as soon as she recognized the long black hair. But he had severe burns across his chest and missing flesh from the left half of his face.

“Jonathan, please… I didn’t do anything!” She wasn’t about to fight him. Not when guilt ate away her conscience. “Just… just leave me alone!”

“You know I can’t do that.” Jonathan stretched out his arm, his hand closing around her throat.

“Let me go!” She pulled his arm away. “Get off me!”

She grabbed Jonathan’s forearm and she watched in horror as the flesh sloughed off. The fat crackling and burning beneath her hands. A blistered strip of skin fell onto her bedspread and burned away, leaving nothing but ash behind.

“Oh god… what are you?!”

_This is just a dream… just a dream… I just have to wake up!_

Hannah shut her eyes against the nightmare, but the grip on her throat only grew tighter. Her dorm room was now engulfed in flames. She could feel the flames licking at her flesh.

“Open your eyes dear sister... this is not a dream. You made me like this, Hannah… now I’m returning the favor.”

“What do you mean? I didn’t do anything!”

“LIAR!”

Hannah woke up again, gulping desperate lungfuls of air, the sheets gripped tightly in her balled fists. Sunlight was peering through the window and the lilac curtains. Her lilac bedspreads and her door maintained no evidence of what transpired last night.

_Why does this keep happening?_

Hannah caught a glance at the photos she took with her Polaroid that she plastered onto the wall in her bed. She knew what she wanted to do. She knew what she had to do.

She grabbed her phone off the nightstand and dialed a number.

“Victor, its Hannah… I need to talk. Now.”

Her friend didn’t even need to add pleasantries. He knew the situation was grave. “Come over here at the shop.”

“Okay, thanks… I’ll get dressed and head over.”

She washed her face first and brushed her bronze-colored hair, her blue eyes looking dull. Next, she grabbed her bag and poured out its contents, school supplies spread out on her bed, and filled it up with spare clothes, snacks, and other essential materials for camping out. 

Once it was done, Hannah stepped out of her sweatpants and gray shirt while browsing her closet and settled to put on jeans, a gray checkered button-up, and a parka coat. She was tying the knots on her shoes when she checked her face in the mirror.

_Is that me?_

She looked like a nightmare, but it was okay. People will assume that the aftermath of the exams has gotten to her when in fact, it hasn’t. She has enough time to set out on her mission. 

With a huff of breath, she put on some light makeup and red matte lipstick that doesn’t come off easily in an attempt to hide the exhaustion that marred her bare face.

Slinging her bag over her shoulders, she gave herself another glance overall.

This outfit looked perfect.

* * *

 ** _A short_** while later, Hannah was sitting across from Victor in a booth at the campus coffee shop. She had just given the gist of her nightmare from last night.

Compared to her, Victor looked fantastic. With his black hair, freshly trimmed beard, black eyes, and tan skin. He never looked fatigued or let stress get to him at all. Hannah admired his resolve.

“So… it sounds like the dreams are getting worse?” Victor asked.

“They’re not just dreams!”

“I’m sorry, Hannah, but they are. Your brother’s gone… And he’s not coming back.”

Hannah had no idea why she yelled at him like that. She hunched her shoulders, ashamed. “I know he’s not, Victor. I identified the body myself when they pulled him out of what was left of his car. But he’s… he’s not at rest. He’s angry… Angry at me.”

“But why? What reason could he have to be angry at you?”

Hannah looked away, unable to meet Victor’s gaze. She wasn’t ready to share away her most held-onto-secret. She hadn’t shared it with anyone else, and she wasn’t about to spill it right here.

“All I know is I can’t take another night of this, Victor. I have to go to Braidwood Manor today. Can you drive me there or not?”

“You mean can I help you put yourself in an incredibly dangerous situation?”

If he won’t do it, she will find someone else who will, but she didn’t want to take any chances. It sucks that despite having the money, her parents wouldn’t give her a car of her own, “Please, you’re the only one I can trust.”

He took her hand in his, his expression softening. “Don’t you understand? If something happened to you… I’d never forgive myself. I want to protect you, Hannah. I want…” he trailed off.

“Something I can’t give. At least… not right now.”

It was obvious that he loved her more than a friend, but Hannah was preoccupied. It wasn’t the right time, and Hannah had been thinking whether she wanted things to change between them at all. When her brother died, her life was thrown to disarray. She wanted to hold onto constant things for now, and Victor wasn’t making it any easier. She wasn’t even sure if her feelings for Victor were genuine, or she only wanted comfort.

Victor was welcoming and Hannah wanted to be held. To be heard. She wanted to be seen.

But she wasn’t ready to commit.

And she didn’t want to hurt Victor’s feelings.

Victor leaned back in his seat and lets out a sigh. “Let’s pretend I’m willing to go along with this... I still don’t understand what you’re hoping to find in some old house. You can’t actually expect to find ghosts there… right?”

“I’ve done the research, Braidwood Manor is for real.” she snapped. “If there’s anywhere I can learn what causes spirits to linger after death… it’s there.”

“Spirits?” he asked, flabbergasted. “This isn’t an episode of Ghost Hunters, Hannah… this is real life.”

“I know how it sounds. But for my brother’s sake… I have to try something.” Her throat constricted slightly, before she met his eyes, her tone becoming sharp once more. “Now are you going to drive me, or am I going to have to take a bus?”

“Okay, okay...” he finally relented. “I’ll drive you there after my shift. I just hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Hannah doesn’t, but she will remain adamant about this.

* * *

 ** _Hannah sat_** in the passenger's seat of Victor’s car, watching the landscape of naked trees, and snow-filled mountains fly by out the window. Neither of them had ever been to their destination. Braidwood Manor was several miles away from the outskirts of the city of Northbridge.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Victor said, driving into the highway on a winter afternoon. He can be such a worrywart, but he remained a loyal friend.

“Cheer up, it’s not like you’re driving me to an execution.” 

“It sure feels that way.” He frowned.

Hannah needed to change the tension. She chose a playful atmosphere. “Then you should make the most of our last moments together. Be fun! Now!”

It did the trick. Victor’s tense shoulders eased. “Okay, okay. How about a game of I Spy? I spy with my little eye… something… white.” 

Hannah rolled her eyes. “Please tell me it’s not snow.”

“Hey, it’s the first thing I saw.” He said in his defense.

Hannah burst out laughing. She didn’t know she needed this.

Victor grinned at her, sarcasm lacing his tone. “Wow, you’re so good at this game!”

“Thanks for always cheering me up, Victor. Why do you put up with me anyway?”

“Mostly out of habit, I think. Plus you’re one of the less annoying people at Hartfeld.”

“Thanks, Victor. You’re fairly tolerable yourself.”

“Maybe I spoke too soon.”

“Hey!” She started with a smile, but as doubt began to seep through her, she wanted to ask why does he put up with her, anyway, but what came out was: “You’re the best.”

“Finally, someone agrees with me. I always knew I was the best, but it feels good to hear someone else say it.”

“Okay, in that case, I take it back.”

“Sorry, Hannah, too late for that.”

“Damn.”

Victor craned his neck to look up through the windshield as the landscape changed outside.

“Wow, look at those trees!” Victor shouted like a little kid.

“And all the snow… it’s almost untouched out here. No other cars in sight, either.”

“I’m not surprised. Who in their right mind would want to drive all the way out to Braidwood Manor?” Victor laughed as Hannah rolled her eyes. “So… do you want to tell me more about this place? Like… why it’s so haunted?”

“Well… It was a dark and stormy night. The wind howled mournfully through the hills like the cry of a—”

“Whoa,” he chimed in. “It’s not that long of a drive. Just give me the facts.”

“You’re no fun.” She bantered. “Well... are you sure? It’s not a happy story.”

“Ghost stories usually don’t end with happily ever after.”

“Okay,” she said, still uncertain. “If you're sure…”

Victor noticed her hesitance. “I’m sure,” he confirmed.

“All right, here’s what happened.” She cleared her throat and began. “So, Braidwood Manor was built around the turn of the last century for the Waverley family, who’d just arrived here from England. By all accounts, life in the manor was idyllic… until the father went off to war.”

“Let me guess… this is where things get ugly?”

“Very. When he returned, he found his three youngest children dead from poisoning. The eldest daughter, Eleanor Waverley, had her throat cut.”

“That’s terrible. Why did you tell me that?”

“Hey, you asked!” she pointed out. “Anyway, ever since then… people have reported all sorts of strange occurrences happening at Braidwood Manor. If I can find out why the Waverley children never… never passed on to whatever comes after death, I’ll be able to help my brother find peace.”

“Hannah…” he began.

“Look,” she snapped. She hated it when people question her tenacity. When people looked doubtful of her decisions. “I know you think that… that I’m just being crazy, or that I need to let him go, or whatever, but—”

“I don’t think that at all!” he interrupted before she continued. “I think…” his brows knitted slowly, “I think you’ve been through a lot, and if this is what you feel you have to do, then I’ll help you. I just want you to be safe, that’s all.”

“Victor,” she said, inhaling deeply. “Thanks for being so understanding.” 

“Of course,” he said, without missing a beat. “That’s what I’m here for… understanding stuff.”

With a chuckle, she told him. “You’re such a dork. But I can take care of myself.”

And just like that, the jolly mood dissipated.

“I know,” Victor said. “I just... well, I care about you. You know that.”

“I...” she blinked. “Yeah, I know. And I’m grateful for that. But... just give me the benefit of the doubt, you know? I’m not totally helpless."

Victor’s smile turned upside down. “Of course, you aren’t. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Victor.”

A few minutes later, Victor took a right at a weathered sign, and the road changed from asphalt to coarse gravel. At the end of the drive, Braidwood Manor loomed like a storm cloud on the horizon, its darkened windows full of nameless foreboding.

“This must be the place,” Victor said.

“Yeah...” she said, breathless. “This is it…”

The snow was beginning to fall. She got out of the car and gawked up at the manor’s once-majestic facade, her heart beating faster in her chest. 

“...Braidwood Manor. Pictures are one thing, but seeing it in person…”

“Yeah,” Victor said, standing beside her. “It’s even creepier than I imagined. Are you sure I can’t come with you?”

“Sorry Victor…” she said with a sad smile. “I have to do this by myself.”

“If you insist,” he said casually, but deep inside he was still fretting over her. “When should I pick you up? Tomorrow morning?”

The cold began to seep in through her bare face, but she didn’t care. She continued to stare up at the manor, barely hearing Victor.

“Uh…” she said, coming out of her reverie. “I’ll call you. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

“Okay,” he said. “Do you need to charge your phone or anything? Somehow I doubt that place is wired for electricity.”

She glanced down at her phone and sees that the battery icon has turned red.

“Crap,” she gasped. “Fifteen percent.”

“I’ve got my car charger if you want to use it,” he said. “It won’t take more than… I don’t know, fifteen minutes? Half an hour tops.”

“Hmm…” maybe she will walk to the nearest payphone or something. “I’ll just keep it off to save battery.”

“Are you sure? What if you run out?”

“I won’t, I’m gonna keep it turned off!”

“But what if you do anyway? How are you supposed to contact me?”

Hannah gave it a deep thought. Charging up her phone will give her a way to keep in touch with him, and besides, she has to give him this security, to placate his worries. Anything to have Victor quit distressing so much. “Yeah, I really should charge my phone.”

Soon the worry lines on Victor’s face faded. “Glad to hear that,” he said with a smile. “Let’s get you charged up.”

Hannah handed her phone over, and Victor headed back to his car, plugging it into the car adapter while she climbed back into the passenger seat. 

“I know you’re eager to get started, but at least now you won’t have to hitchhike your way back to the campus.”

One of his qualities was to be understanding and Hannah loved that about him.

“Yeah, that would be way more terrifying than a haunted house.” Thanks for driving me, by the way, and thanks in advance for driving me back.”

“Hey, no worries. I can’t think of a better way to spend a Saturday than risking my life on icy roads with you.”

“Ugh, I’m trying got be serious for once, Victor.”

“So am I,” Victor grinned at her. 

She bit back a smile. “I know I haven’t been the easiest person to be friends with since...” she took a deep breath. “Since my brother died. But I want you to know how much I appreciate you being there for me. No matter what. Even if I don’t always know how to say it.”

“You don’t have to. I know.”

It startled her. “You do?”

He shrugged. “More or less.”

Victor placed his hand on hers. Hannah felt a flush rising to her cheeks as he leaned closer.

Hannah pulled away. “Victor, I...”

Victor stared at her, conflicted, and deeply hurt. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I shouldn’t have done that. I know you’re not... not ready.”

“It’s okay. Really.”

His face was filled with intense guilt. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. How’s my phone doing, by the way?

Victor looked down at her phone, then handed the phone back to her. “Looks like you’re ready to go.”

“Thanks, Victor.”

He nodded, refusing to meet her eyes longer than necessary. Hannah had no idea how to dissipate the awkwardness now.

“Hey, uh... I know you’re going to be busy looking for ghosts and stuff, but if you get a spare moment, do you mind if I call you?” he looked at her expectantly and it slightly unnerved him. “You know, just to check-in, see how things are going.

“Of course. We’re friends. You don’t have to ask permission.”

“Right, of course. Not sure what I was thinking.”

Hannah chuckled, hoping to keep it light. “You’re so weird.”

“Says the girl who’s about to spend the night in a haunted house.”

_Touché._

“All right,” Victor added. “Guess I’ll see you later, Hannah. Be careful in there, okay?”

“I will. Bye, Victor.” Hannah got off the car once more.

“Bye.”

As the tail lights of Victor’s car recede into the distance, Hannah took a deep breath and turned to face Braidwood Manor.

“Well… I guess it’s just you and me now.”

She made her way up the ice-slick steps leading to the manor, taking care not to slip. Soon, she’s standing before the manor’s great oak doors. She grasped the handle.

“Here goes nothing…”

She crossed the threshold, letting the door fall closed behind her, and she looked out across the dilapidated foyer.

_Wow… I can’t believe it’s all still here…_

She took in the splintered furniture, the threadbare carpet, and the glittering wreckage of a fallen chandelier.

_If what they say about this place is true, I might be able to get some answers here. I could help my brother find peace._

She shrugged off her backpack and set it by the staircase. A sudden creak of the floorboards made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. She went over to the noise and investigate. 

“Who’s there?”

There’s no reply, only the sound of her own heartbeat.

“Never mind, I guess.”

She crossed the foyer, her feeling of unease growing with each step she took.

_Maybe it’s just the house settling… but maybe it’s something more. How messed up am I that I actually want it to be a ghost?_

She made a slow circuit through the room, the faded portraits gazing down at her through a century’s worth of dust. Just then, she heard a sound. Like tiny feet running up the stairs and she whirled around quickly.

“Who’s there?” she said, alarmingly. “Whoever you are don’t be afraid! I just want to talk!” 

Her words were met with silence.

_Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all._

She felt a shiver run up her spine as she noticed her backpack was missing from where she left it by the stairs.

_Okay, this is starting to scare me._

She walked over to the foot of the stairs and found a little tin soldier staring up at her from the bottommost step.

 _Weird..._ _This definitely wasn’t here before._

She looked up the staircase to the second-floor landing. Tin soldiers guarded every other stair, their painted rifles slung over their shoulders.

_What exactly am I dealing with here?_

Pocketing the tin soldier she’s holding, Hannah followed the trail of soldiers up the stairs to the second floor, gripping the banister for support.

_Who put these here? And how many ARE there?_

At the top of the stairs, she finds her backpack surrounded by a small battalion of tin soldiers, bayonets at the ready.

“What the…”

_What should I do? Should I leave it?_

She eyed the soldier’s bayonets warily and took a step back.

_Nope. Not about to take that risk. But I need my bag._

She stretched her hand out and took hold of one of her backpack’s canvas straps. “Please don’t come to life and stab me.”

“What are you so scared of? They’re just toys!” A boy shouted.

Hannah turned to see a boy clad a light blue shirt and suspenders. She screamed and stumbled backward, past the lip of the topmost stair. 

Her foot missed the next step and she went tumbling down the staircase, landing hard at the bottom. Her head bounced against the marble floor, and everything goes black.

* * *

 ** _She came_** to in an unfamiliar room, the soft light of the moon slanting through the window. Hannah found herself lying down on a soft canopy bed.

_Huh? Where… Where am I? Braidwood Manor is over a hundred years old. This room looks like… like something out of time... like the turn of the century was only yesterday._

She heard a soft click, as the doorknob turned. Hannah gasped, frightened like a cat and the door slowly opened.


	2. Out of Time Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh, this story is more of a paranormal lesbian love story than outright horror. It explains why the plot seemed weak, the gays have a happy ending, and the tropes are overused. All I’m saying is… This should be a movie or a web series! The game itself is a rarity. The music and art are sooo good.

Hannah watched with her heart in her throat as the bedroom door creaked open. It revealed a young woman dressed in the fashions of a bygone era, her dark eyes fixed on Hannah.

“Don’t be afraid, Hannah.” The young woman said in an old English accent. “I don’t mean you any harm.”

“Who…” Hannah took in her sharp bone structure, her sweet long brown hair in a braid. Her brown eyes filled with all of the sadness in the world. Her full lips set a contemplative smile. She was the loveliest woman Hannah had ever seen. “Who are you?”

“My name is Eleanor Waverley,” she said, welcoming her formally. The woman wore a maroon and black gown with a black choker. “Welcome to Braidwood Manor.”

“You’re…” her throat constricted. “You’re Eleanor Waverley? As in that Eleanor Waverley?”

“I’m afraid so.”

_Oh my god. She’s pretty. She’s so pretty!_

“You must have at least a hundred questions right now.” The young woman said.

Hannah attempted to keep her cool. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“And I’ll do my best to answer them. But I must ask that you be patient with me. There’s… still, so much I don’t understand about this place. This… existence.”

Hannah bit her lower lip, stopping herself from sprouting all the questions that sprung on her mind. Like how did she knew her name for example? She thought of asking the simple but important questions. One by one.

“Tell me… How did I get here?”

“Ah, about that…” she frowned, almost regrettably. “It seems my little brother Simon gave you a scare, and you fell and bumped your head. I carried you upstairs and put you to bed. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Uh, not at all, I guess…” she admitted, but curiosity sparked within her. “You carried me?”

“Yes, I just said that. Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah,” she said in disbelief. “I think so, I just… didn’t expect that, I guess.”

Eleanor arched an elegant brow. “I’m not as fragile as I look, Hannah.”

Hannah nodded, figuring it was high time to stop judging people by their appearances.

“What are you?” she asked next.

“Your kind would call me a ghost… and I suppose that’s what I am.” She said with great difficulties, like swallowing a hard pill. “But… I don’t feel like a ghost.”

“What do you feel like, then?”

“I feel the same as I did in life… except it feels like something’s missing, or like I’ve taken a wrong turn. I feel… lost. Forgotten.”

Hannah nodded. Those might have been difficult to express. As much as she wanted to converse with her the meaning of life or finding purpose in one’s existence, she had to change the subject.

“Where am I?”

“Braidwood Manor, of course,” she said, although there wasn’t any teasing or joking on her tone. Just formal and straight to the point.

Hannah then can’t help but let out a bit of sass in her. “Okay, then... when am I?”

Eleanor Waverley drew her brows together. “That’s an altogether more difficult question. I know that in your world, this house is a shadow of its former self.”

“My world? So… we’re somewhere else?”

“I don’t know, Hannah. I’ve come to think of this place as a memory,” she said, though her attempt at levity only sounded tired. “The rest of the world kept moving, and we just stayed the same.” 

Hannah nodded for what seemed like the umpteenth time on a row.

“Now it’s my turn to ask you a few questions.”

Hannah flinched at that. Whatever could a ghost want to know? “Okay.”

“To start with…” Eleanor’s eyes roamed over her, examining the stranger from head to toe, seemingly a little lost. “Why are you here?”

"I was hiking and got lost." Hannah had no idea why she lied. Truthfully, she was a little lost as well.

"You were... hiking? I find that hard to believe."

"Why?"

"For one thing, your shoes are remarkably clean."

Hannah looked at her spotless shoes beside the bed and felt a pang of guilt.

"Okay, I wasn't hiking... I came here for information.” She took in a lungful of air. The woman was skilled to spot a liar and Hannah knew that being direct to the point and honesty could go a long way. “I’m here because I want to learn more about life after death. I need to learn everything I can about, about ghosts.”

“So… you’re not afraid to be here?” she asked, unable to comprehend the ludicrous set of events. “You… wanted to meet me?”

“Well,” she began alarmingly, slightly embarrassed but also gaining confidence. “I won’t pretend that this isn’t a bit unusual, but yes, I wanted to come here. I wanted to meet you and your siblings.”

Eleanor still hasn’t recovered her surprise. “Why, might I ask?”

Hannah looked out across the grounds of Braidwood Manor and suppressed a shiver. “It’s… it’s complicated.”

As she peered through the frosted glass of the window, she noticed a dark shape standing amidst the trees on the edge of the property.

“Jonathan!” In her fright, Hannah stepped backward, bumping her head to the canopy of the bed.

When her brother’s ghost knew his location was compromised, he melted into the trees, leaving Hannah looking out at a bare expanse of white snow. 

Eleanor moved to stand beside her, and she laid her hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “I think I understand. You were haunted before you ever set foot in this place.”

Then they both noticed the trickle of blood on from the small wound on her face.

_Oh great, falling down the stairs doesn’t cause anything but a small bump does._

Eleanor pursed her lips as she went in front of the vanity. "Come here."

Hannah shuffled over to her and sat down on the instructed chair. Eleanor pulled a drawer, found about a million little different boxes with early makeup products and a healing kit. Then she grabbed a clean cloth, dabbed it with water to clean up the blood on her face.

Hannah found her stomach to flip flop all of a sudden. Eleanor was towering above her, and she briefly thought that Eleanor smelled great. She wondered why she wanted to get closer to her. It must have been some kind of magic in the wind **.** Hannah inhaled discreetly.

"You smell like roses." she immediately said after recognizing the scent.

“Yes, I am,” Eleanor said plainly and screwed the lit of another bottle. Then she applied something new to her neck.

“Is it your perfume or your soap?” she asked.

“It’s an essential oil I use to calm myself down.”

“Oh.” Hannah couldn’t think of any other response to that. Mostly because it wasn’t her scent she wanted to talk about. Hannah wanted to talk about her. She wanted to know everything about her. She wanted to know why she stayed instead of moving on.

There were so many things Hannah wanted to know.

“Can I ask you another question?” Hannah asked as Eleanor grabbed a cotton swab, dunked it into what looked like an ointment and then carefully dabbed it over Hannah’s skin, just below her ear.

“If you must.”

“How old are you?” she asked. That was something Hannah had thought about for a while.

Her question was met with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a lady of her age?” Eleanor asked.

Her gaze dropped to the floor. She had heard that saying before but she had never heard any woman say it in real life... until now.

Hannah’s coyness amused Eleanor and she laughed throatily. “How old do you think I am?”

She looked up and studied her face. Her jawline, her high cheekbones, her mouth, her full, plump lips and the way they pouted ever so slightly, her deep brown eyes and her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

“I’m not sure,” she said.

“Guess,” Elea3nor challenged, dabbing a new product over the mark on her cheekbone.

“Eighteen?” Hannah said hesitantly.

Eleanor laughed again. “You’re too kind.”

“Nineteen? Twenty?”

“I am twenty-one. Well... a hundred and twenty-one.”

Hannah didn’t know what else to say to that. “Okay.”

Now Hannah knew her age. That was one thing. But there were so many other things she wanted to know. So many things she wanted to tell Eleanor. "How did you know my name?"

"There. All done.” Eleanor said, ignoring her question as she packed her equipment away.

“Eleanor,” she turned to face her. Her heart constricting as she did her best to plea and sound sincere. “This is why I need to learn more about you. About your world. Otherwise… I’ll never be able to help my brother. Just… let me stay here, please. I won’t cause you any trouble.”

A frown creases Eleanor’s eyebrows for a little while and then she smiled slightly. “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?” she asked, a bit frightened.

“I’m giving you the grand tour, of course. After all… if you’re to stay here, you may as well get to know the house.”

Hannah’s jaw fell at the notion. She had no idea that a ghost could welcome her to their abode. The results in her investigation couldn’t compare to what she was experiencing firsthand. She hurried to keep up with Eleanor as she strode out into the dark hall, whose only source of light was from wall torches plastered on the walls.

“So… you’re letting me stay?”

“Of course,” She folded her hands elegantly over her stomach and spoke in a clear voice. “We never get any visitors anymore, and it would be nice to have company.”

Hannah followed Eleanor out onto the second-floor landing of the grand foyer, gasping at the sight of the familiar room restored to its former glory.

“Oh my god…” she said, giddily. “It’s so beautiful! What was it like growing up here?”

“I didn’t grow up here. Well, not entirely… we left England when I was fifteen.”

Hannah cringed inwardly. She should pay more attention to her words. She didn’t want to offend her. “That must’ve been hard.”

Eleanor was simply staring at her steadily and a smile danced on her face, almost as radiant in the sun. “I certainly threw more than my fair share of tantrums. But I came to like it here, in my way. Still… I would have liked to see England again before…” Eleanor trailed off, her previous smile vanishing. She turned away from Hannah to continue down the staircase. “Well, let’s not talk about that.”

“I’m sorry,” she really couldn’t offer any more substantial thought.

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

Just then, Hannah heard a sudden crash from somewhere downstairs.

“What was that?” she yelled, startling her out of her wits. She stared at the direction where the sound came from and quickly looked at the manor’s host.

Eleanor looked pained for a moment, her expression resolves into a tired smile. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

Hannah wasn’t about to overstep her boundaries. “Okay, if you say so,” she thought of a different topic altogether. “When can I meet the rest of the family?”

“Very soon,” she muttered, yet it seemed like there was something else holding her back. “But there’s something you should know.”

“What’s that?”

“Unlike myself, my siblings aren’t aware that they’re…” she trailed off.

“That they’re what?”

“Dead.” She said, deliberately impassive.

“What?” she yelled. “But how come you know?”

“I’d…” she hesitated for a long moment. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her shoulders scrunched up as well as she tried to force herself to calm down, “rather not say.” 

Hannah understood the walls surrounding Eleanor. It shielded her from the truth, from expressing, from relieving the pain, and from ever hurting again. Hannah knew that feeling all too well.

Eleanor gathered her resolve to steel herself before searching her eyes once more. “I’m sorry, Hannah. It’s just too painful.”

She nodded, but there was still a question that lingered her mind. “Why haven’t you told them?”

Eleanor froze with her mouth open. Then she frowned, her jaw clenching. “How can you ask such a thing?”

“What do you mean?”

She seemed to have caught herself succumbing to her unsightly emotions. 

“I’m sorry,” Eleanor finally lifted her eyes to hers. The sadness in them seemed to suggest she cared for her living companion. “I shouldn’t be cross with you. You can’t possibly imagine what it’s like… to live with the knowledge that you’re not really living at all. Trust me, Hannah… ignorance is bliss. I wouldn’t dream of taking that away from my siblings.”

For some odd reason, Hannah began to wonder why Jonathan wasn’t like Eleanor at all.

“I’m sorry, Hannah. It’s just... too painful.” Her voice panged with pain. “You’re welcome to stay… but don’t say anything to the children that would upset them. Don’t talk about where you’re from, or what the world is like beyond these walls… Just let the children be children, Hannah. That’s all I ask.”

“All right, Eleanor. I won’t say anything I promise.”

“We’ll need an explanation for who you are and why you’re here,” her brows drew together, the cogs in her head began turning. “I know! I’ll introduce you as their new governess. Do you have any experience as such?”

Hannah’s brain froze for a moment at the term. “Um, I did some babysitting in high school.”

Though she doubted that Eleanor would be familiar with those terms.

“Perfect,” she said, lips curving into a smile. “It won’t be difficult, you’ll see. Simon’s the only one who really needs watching. Clarissa and Thomas are old enough to look after themselves.”

“Those are your other siblings?” Hannah noted that Eleanor had a soft spot for them.

“Yes. They’re fourteen and twelve, respectively. Simon’s only eight. They’re all waiting in the parlor if you’re ready to meet them. Although… it would be better if you wore something else.”

Hannah felt her brows rising. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Nothing at all! It’s very pretty, but it’s, well… anachronistic.”

“Oh…” The compliment surprised her and filled her chest with an odd sensation of affection. “Wait did you say I was ‘pretty’?”

Eleanor blushed a delicate pink. “I said your clothes were pretty, I didn’t say—”

“So… you don’t think I’m pretty?”

“I didn’t say that!” The look in her eyes was pure shock with perhaps some startled attraction at the edges. Her mouth had gone slack. “I… sorry it’s… it’s just been ages since…”

Hannah smiled at the reactions she was eliciting. “Since what?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Eleanor’s lips as she realized Hannah’s making fun of her. “Never mind, let’s just find you something suitable.”

Hannah followed Eleanor back upstairs to another bedroom. Eleanor headed to the wardrobe and started searching through dresses. 

“I should have a dress you can wear… we’re about the same size after all.” She pulled out a dark purple gown with an elegant white collar and held it up to Hannah. “This ought to fit you nicely, I’ll give you some privacy while you try it on.”

Eleanor left without a word so that Hannah could have privacy. When the door closed behind her, she took the cue to change her clothes. The dress was relatively new like it hasn’t been worn before.

She noticed a long mirror on the other side of the room and stood in front of it. Hannah was smiling vaguely. She wore a look of dreamy contentment through her dark and lidded eyes. She hadn’t known she could move with a grace she had never known she possessed. She hadn’t known that clothes do have an impact on a person’s confidence.

She stared back at her blue eyes and saw that for once, ever since her brother’s death, that her eyes held a shine that was lost. She brushed her hair in the mirror with a pride that was gorgeous on her face.

Eleanor comes back in to check on Hannah, and her eyes went wide. “Oh my...” she was lost for words.

Hannah flashed a smile. “How do I look?”

“Perfect,” she breathed.

“Really?” Hannah twirled a finger on a lock of her hair, feeling a flush of attraction for her as she gazed into her eyes. They were dark and slanted like a wolf's. “I’ve never worn anything like this.”

“It suits you. And now that you look the part of a governess, are you ready to meet your charges?”

Hannah felt her blood pumping. It felt oddly nerve-wracking and exciting at the same time. “Yeah… I think I am. Lead the way.”

Eleanor led her back downstairs to the parlor. She pushed the mahogany door open, revealing the most impressive room Hannah had ever seen. The walls were covered by colorful paintings, emblazoning men and women who must have been family at some point, luxurious pieces of furniture, antique sofas, and a grand piano.

Hannah looked in the direction of the place where the armchairs stood circumventing a round coffee table, where the three younger Waverley siblings sit expectantly. Hannah recognized Simon, the boy from the night before, and he averted his eyes sheepishly when she met his gaze.

Eleanor let out a prideful sigh. “Children, this is—”

“We know who she is!” The girl in the blue dress interrupted. Her resemblance to Eleanor was uncanny, though she has yet to grow out of her baby cheeks. “She’s just like Simon said she would be!”

“Yeah, that’s the girl I saw!” Simon agreed. 

“What a beautiful dress!” Clarissa added.

With that reaction, Hannah gathered that none of the children could have seen this dress before. 

The other boy narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Hannah. He wore a blue shirt and a brown vest, and he was the only one who had blue eyes among his siblings. “She’s odd, though. Who are you, exactly?”

“This is Hannah,” Eleanor said, introducing her. “She’s your new governess. And I expect you to treat her with the utmost respect.”

“Governess?” Thomas scoffed in outrage. “I don’t need a governess. I’m almost as old as she is!”

“Besides,” Simon added impatiently. “You already take care of us, Eleanor!”

“Hey,” Hannah began, gently reprimanding. “Aren’t you going to give me a chance? Maybe we’ll be best friends. You never know.”

Simon looked bashfully at the floor. “I’m sorry, Miss Hannah.”

“I’m not,” Thomas said, a permanent scowl on his face. “I’m twelve years old! I can look after myself.”

Hannah was sure that being 18 couldn’t compare to someone who’s almost 112. But maybe it doesn’t matter at all, considering they were trapped in this pocket dimension that caused their growth to become stagnant.

“Thomas!” Clarissa scolded, aghast. “Please forgive my brother’s coarse manners, Hannah. I, for one, am very excited to have another lady to talk to.”

Eleanor’s brows drew together at that. “What does that make me?”

“Uh…” her sister trailed off.

“You’re more like our mother!” Simon shouted, his brown eyes shining brightly.

“Wonderful,” Eleanor sighed. Within a blink, she seemed to become even more tired. “You can see why I need a break, Hannah.”

“Oh,” Hannah murmured before she grinned. “Nonsense! This will be fun. I can’t wait to get to know all of you better.”

“I see,” she said. “I chose my assistant well. In any case, it’s about time you three went to bed.”

The children looked alarmed by their elder sister’s decision. 

“Aw, Eleanor! Can’t we stay up just a little bit longer?” Simon pleaded his head tilted to the side reminding Hannah of a puppy.

Eleanor relaxed, her stern look giving way to a smile. She couldn’t resist the youngest Waverley at all. “I suppose that’d be alright… just this once, though. Hannah, would you help me fix the children some hot cider before bed?”

“Of course.”


	3. Out of Time part 2

Hannah followed Eleanor to the kitchen. It was a paradise of luxurious light wood cabinets and she halted when she saw the stove. She was out of her element. 

Eleanor seemed to have read her mind. With a small giggled took it upon herself to get the cast iron cook stove fire roaring. “Will you fetch us cups?”

Hannah nodded, opening a cupboard or two. The only issue was of all the cupboards and closets the kitchen had, Hannah hadn’t the foggiest clue where the cups are. She strolled around the vacant kitchen opening up random doors to cupboards and peering inside to see what was there. She found the usual cutlery that they used on the daily, serving trays and vases and other niceties should go.

Balancing all five of them, Hannah brought the mugs to the table. “Do you guys pour anything else in your cider? Like cinnamon?”

“I’m sure the children would love that,” Eleanor said as poured some apple cider onto the kettle. “There’s one at the far back.”

Hannah found the pantry with all the dry goods and found a cupboard whose shelves were barren. Only the cupboard wasn't quite as empty as she had previously assumed at first glance.

She wondered how come they had food here. Could it be that whatever material possession they had on that fateful day remained in this pocket dimension? Are the food and water replenished as soon as the clock struck 12? Hannah can’t even live cooped up in her dormitory eating instant noodles every day, she wondered how come Eleanor and her siblings can live like this.

_But they aren’t. They’re dead._

As she loaded a stack of plates onto one of the higher shelves, she noticed that the top shelf was filled. Filled with dusted jars of powdered spices.

When she went to pull one from the shelf she coughed at the dust it pulled with it. Running her thumb over the label on the front she cleaned away the grime to read the printed words.

She returned the cocoa jar before carrying the cinnamon jar back out into the desolate kitchen and stood with Eleanor close by. The room was quickly bathed in companionate silence, occasionally broken by the boiling kettle.

Hannah wouldn't have thought a woman as mature and intelligent as Eleanor Waverley could be so fascinating. Sure, she has met multiple women in the university, but none could par with Eleanor Waverly.

Eleanor had noticed but she didn't say anything. She just waited for the cider and remained silent. Hannah smiled at her, as if just to be polite, and looked away. When Hannah turned her gaze back, she noticed Eleanor had been checking her out. Her dark brown eyes darting over her dress and rampant hair. She wasn't sure if that was a good sign but it was flattering all the same.

When the cider was ready, Eleanor turned the stove off. As soon as Eleanor poured the drinks, Hannah sprinkled a dash of cinnamon into a belly-warming cups of pure delight.

A short while later, Hannah and Eleanor returned to the parlor with cups of hot cider out for the children.

Simon said excitedly as he took his cup. “Yay! Thank you, Miss Hannah!”

“Just Hannah is fine, Simon.”

Hannah handed a cup of cider to Thomas.

“Thank you,” he grumbled.

“Was that a ‘Thank you’ I heard out of you, Thomas?” Eleanor gasped, teasing. “What a rare treat.”

Thomas snubbed.

Clarissa had taken a small sip with hers before asking. “Eleanor, why do we never have cocoa in the evenings anymore like we used to?”

Eleanor turned her face away. Her eyes turned sad. “Um... it’s just been harder to get these days.”

Hannah knitted her eyebrows together at that. She was pretty sure she had seen the cocoa jar deep in the cupboards next to the cinnamon.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Clarissa moped. “I used to love when mother and father would let us stay up late and—” 

“Yes, well, let’s not talk about them, shall we?” she said quickly, if not a little bit too harsh.

“Okay…” Clarissa’s face fell. “Sorry, Eleanor.”

Eleanor’s smile faded a little. The children did as well. Hannah had been observing her host closely in the candlelight and for the first time, she almost felt perhaps that the other woman's love for her siblings that she would hold onto too much weight on her shoulders were altogether too noble to meddle with.

“That’s quite all right.” Eleanor chuckled at the moment of awkwardness she had created and somehow it dispelled it.

It took a while to regain the composure but soon the hot cider moment was proceeding as smoothly as before. 

“Eleanor,” Thomas said. “Until when is the new governess going to stay?”

"Don't worry,” Hannah said over the rim of her cup. “I'm not staying long."

"You're not? But..." Simon said.

Eleanor flashed her an annoyed look and proceeded to explain the situation. "Hannah will only be with us a short while before she has to get back home."

"Glad to hear it," Thomas said.

“Thomas!” Clarissa yelled, reprimanding him.

Eleanor gave him a stern look that made her brother grumble in guilt. She let out a deep exhausted sigh. 

“Yeah,” Hannah murmured. “These kids seem like a handful.” 

"They can be. But... they grow on you. Eventually." Eleanor stared back at her with a smile and they exchanged a chuckle.

"Uh, we're right here, you know..." Clarissa pointed out.

"Oh, we know," Eleanor smirked.

Once everyone’s cups were empty, the children waited for the inevitable, but somehow, Eleanor approached Hannah first.

“Hannah, I can put the children to bed if you’d like to get some rest. I know you’ve had an eventful day.”

Hannah was certain that Eleanor had one as well, but she wasn’t about to dispute. “Sure, okay… should I stay in the same room upstairs?”

“Of course. I’ll help you find your way back.”

Eleanor led Hannah out of the parlor and back into the foyer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “There’s one more thing I should tell you about Braidwood Manor.”

“What’s that?”

“Whatever you think you hear… never leave your room after dark. Do you understand?” she warned.

“Okay, no leaving my room after dark. Got it.”

“I’m glad we understand each other.”

“Yeah, me too.” Hannah looked up at her with a small flicker of defiance in her blue eyes. “Oh… what happens if I do?”

Eleanor gave Hannah a calculating look, her brow furrowed. “You don’t want to find out, believe me.”

“Uh… okay,” she nodded.

“Goodnight, Hannah.”

Hannah pressed her lips together before replying. “Goodnight.”

A short while later, Hannah tucked herself in bed, thinking hard.

_Am I losing my mind? Or is all of this happening? And how can I get Eleanor to tell me why she and her siblings are all trapped her? I suppose I’ll have to earn her trust first… better make sure not to break any of her rules._

As Hannah lied there in the darkness, she’s startled out of her reverie by a notification on her phone.

“Huh? Oh, it’s from Victor.”

_"just wanted to check in… still think you’re crazy for staying up there by yourself but i guess that’s what makes you you. and i wouldn’t have it any other way."_

“Aw, that’s sweet of him to—”

Just then, she noticed a curious sound beneath the howling of the wind outside.

“Is someone… crying?”

She’s strained her ears and caught the sound again. A low, mournful wail that seemed to echo through the halls.

_Is that… Eleanor?_

She got out of bed, feet planting firmly on the ground and hesitated before her bedroom door.

_Eleanor said not to leave my room after dark… but if someone’s in trouble._

With her thudding fast in her chest, Hannah knelt to peer through the keyhole, seeing nothing but the empty hallway beyond.

_Looks like the coast is clear…And whoever’s making that sound… it’s only getting louder._

Hannah shook her head, becoming steadfast with her conviction.

_That’s it. I’m going out there._

Hannah stepped out into the hall, shutting the door softly behind her. She followed the sound through the manor’s twisting halls, down the stairs of the foyer and deeper into the house that she thought was possible.

_Just how big is this place?_

At last, Hannah came to a long hallway ending in a solitary door. A door covered in rusted locks and bound up in iron.

_What the—?_

She drew close to the door’s timeworn wood and heard the sounds of weeping beyond. The noise started to sound less like weeping and more like the plaintive cries of a wounded beast.

_Whatever’s making that sound, it’s just pass this door…_

“Hello? Is anyone in there?”

The sobs quieted, followed by a sick silence that felt like all the air’s been sucked out of the room. Then all of a sudden, the door started shaking. Fire exploded from around the door frame.

“Oh no!”

Hannah jumped back. Fingers slither up her arm and yanked down on her wrist.

She screamed.


	4. Lock and Key Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know if people read this, but I'll keep on posting because I love the story and the characters so much. So I decided to cut this chapter into two because it’s too long if you’d include the Diamond choice. Enjoy!

As Hannah stood facing the mysterious door deep in the heart of Braidwood Manor, she felt cold fingers gripping her arm.

“Ahhh!” she whirled in panic, shaking off her attacker. “Get off of me!”

“Sorry, Miss Hannah,” the little boy flinched away.

“Simon?” she yelled, placing a hand over her heart. “You really have to stop scaring me like that!”

His chubby face scrunched up in guilt “I didn’t mean to…”

“I know…” Hannah took some rapid, calming breaths and regained her composure. “I just didn’t expect that. What are you doing out of bed, anyway?”

“I’m thirsty.”

Hannah nodded. She went still for a moment, eyebrows raised, waiting for the sounds to come. When it appeared that nothing came, she sighed in slight relief. She wanted to find out what’s behind the door, Simon could know, but she had to thread the information from him carefully.

“Simon, did you hear strange sounds just now?”

For some reason, Simon looked uneasy. “I don’t know… Eleanor says it’s just the wind, but…”

“It sounded like it was coming from that door,” she pointed behind her. Hannah started walking down the hallway toward the locked door again. Her hand reached out trace it on her fingers.

“Don’t touch it!” Simon gasped. “Eleanor says we’re not to go near it… and we’re never, ever to unlock it.”

“Do you…” she began. “Do you have the key?”

Simon pulled a burnished antique key out of his pocket and held it out for Hannah to see it. “We all have one.”

Hannah inspected the key. The handle had a letter ‘S’. She turned her attention back towards the door and noticed that four locks are keeping it shut.

_Four keys for four locks… one for each of the Waverleys. I’ll have to get my hands on all of them if I want to find out what Eleanor’s hiding._

“Miss Hannah?” Simon looked up at her, blinking innocently. “Why are you out of bed?”

“Uh, I was just… sleepwalking.” She spouted out the first excuse that came to mind. “Can you promise not to tell Eleanor about it? It will be our little secret.”

“Okay!” he said, smiling chirpily.

“Now let’s get you something to drink, then it’s back to bed.” Hannah put an arm around Simon’s shoulder leading him back down the hallway, throwing one last look back at the locked door.

_I’ll be back for you later._

* * *

**_The following_** morning, Hannah woke up in the guest bedroom of Braidwood Manor and got prepared for the day.

_Guess it wasn’t all a dream._

As she made her way downstairs, she bumped into Eleanor on the second-floor landing.

“Good morning, Hannah.” The host greeted her. “I was wondering if you’d ever get out of bed.”

Hannah was taken aback by the implication and the teasing tone. “What do you mean? What time is it?”

“Ten o’clock or so?”

“Oh, sorry...” she said. Guilt began to swarm over her. “I should’ve been up to help with breakfast, huh?”

“It would’ve been nice. But not necessary.” Eleanor sighed. Her face was beautiful in the sunlight and the lack of anger in it made Hannah feel even guiltier. 

“Oh, okay. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Eleanor continued to smile for a moment and then the smile tilted upward slightly. “There’s nothing right now. Feel free to spend the morning as you see fit. The children would love to spend time with you if you’d like.”

"Somehow I don't think Thomas would agree."

Eleanor laughed, her eyes sparkling. "Sorry about him. He's always been the brooding type.”

_And you're not?_

Instead of saying what she wanted to say, she suggested. "Maybe he'll grow out of it."

Eleanor's smile faltered, and the mistake dawned on Hannah. Once again, she forgot to think twice before speaking.

"Eleanor, I'm sorry, I didn't think—"

"It's okay, Hannah.” Her gaze hardened, her jaw constricted. Eleanor attempted to not let herself be swept with anger. “Really, it is. I know how strange this all must be for you. It's still strange for me sometimes. But I'm glad you're here with us. You give this place a new life."

"Thanks, Eleanor... I'm glad to be here."

“Come,” Eleanor said. “You are in dire need to spend time with the children.”

Somehow Hannah wasn’t in a rush to get to the children to go on about her mission. She had become increasingly fascinated with the eldest Waverley. There was just something about her that made Hannah bolder.

“Oh,” she said, her voice spilling with emotion. “What if I want to spend the morning with you?”

Eleanor’s cheeks bloomed pinkish, turning shy. “W-with me? Oh, well—”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you nervous.” Hannah tried not to grin, but it was impossible.

“You didn’t make me nervous!” Eleanor flinched slightly. In fear, surprise, and attraction. Her face was going red and she seemed mind boggled at Hannah’s genuine sincerity at her words.

“I find that hard to believe…” she said, teasing, almost encouraging dissent.

Eleanor’s blush deepened further.

“It’s okay, Eleanor.” Hannah noticed how uncomfortable she was, and stopped. “If you don’t want to spend time with me…”

“That’s not it at all,” Eleanor pointed out. “It’s just that…” 

“Just that what?” Hannah asked, fearing she might have gone overboard.

“I… I have to go. I’m sorry.” Eleanor hurried up the stairs past Hannah, her long skirt fluttering behind her.

Hannah didn’t let the action dishearten her. She continued downstairs and stepped into the parlor, where Simon sat on the floor, poring over a wood-framed case.

“Morning, Simon. What’s that you got there?”

“Good morning, Miss Hannah!” he greeted back. “Here, take a look…”

Hannah leaned over his shoulder and saw that the case was full of glittering butterflies, jeweled beetles, and fuzzy moths, all affixed to the backing with tiny pins.

“Oh, wow! Is this your bug collection?”

“Insect collection,” he said, correcting her. “And yes, it’s mine.”

“Did you catch all of these?”

“All the ones that are native to this region… Father brought the other home for me when he traveled. See this scorpion? She came all the way from Egypt!”

A smile grew on her face. “You must know a lot about bugs, huh? Sorry… insects.”

“I know everything about them!” Simon chirped. “I’ve read almost all the books in our library. When I grow up, I want to be an entomologist.”

“Wow, big word,” Hannah said impressed, making Simon grin.

“Thanks. Do you like insects?”

“Do I like insects?” she asked, half-mesmerized. “I think they’re fascinating! When I was your age, I spent hours watching ladybugs and roly-polies in my parents’ garden.”

"It's a good thing you're not like Clarrisa! She hates insects."

Hannah chuckled. "I don't blame her. Some people do find some insects so creepy."

"No, they're not! They're the best!"

"I think we'll just have to agree to disagree on this one."

“Why did you stop?” he asked. “Watching ladybugs and roly-polies?”

The question startled her. “I dunno… I guess I grew up.”

“How sad…” he said, looking at her with abject sorrow. “I hope that never happens to me.”

Now it was Hannah’s turn to wear it on her face. “Simon…”

“What?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s… it’s nothing, never mind.” Hannah bit her lip, remembering the promise she made to Eleanor. The promise meant something. She wasn’t about to callously break her trust like she foolishly did last night. Hannah stared back at Simon’s inquiring eyes. “Look, there was actually something I wanted to talk to you about…”

“Is it about last night? And the door?”

“It is. And more importantly, that key you showed me…”

“What about it?”

“Do you think I could maybe borrow it?”

Simon looked uneasy, and but his hand went to the pocket where he kept it, clutching it for a source of ease. “I don’t know, Hannah… Eleanor said not to unlock the door.”

With a sigh, Hannah looked straight to his eyes. The first thing she learned about kids when babysitting, was to treat them like an equal, but also appealing to their sense of justice. “Simon, I need to know what’s behind that door.”

“What if it’s something scary?” he said, holding back as his face morphed in fear. “What if it’s a... a ghost?”

“Then I’ll find a way to deal with it. Better than being afraid, right?”

Simon pursed his lips, contemplating, but he looked more convinced than seconds ago. “Maybe, but still, Eleanor said...”

“Look, Simon... I wish I could explain this better. All I can say is that it’ll all make sense one day, I promise.”

“Well… okay. I’ll let you borrow my key.” He said, finally relenting. “On one condition.”

Hannah’s jaw dropped at that. She hadn’t known there would be a preposition. “What’s that?”

Simon tapped a blank space in a row of grey and brown moths. “See this? This is where I’d put my Operophtera brumata… If I had one.”

“Opera what?”

“Operophtera brumata. Also known as the winter moth. I’ve seen them flying around our house before...” his face fell once more. “But only up in the attic.”

“So, what’s the problem? Why don’t you go up there and catch one?” 

“Because… I’m…” Simon looked at the floor, embarrassed, and mumbled something.

“What did you say?”

“I’m… I’m scared of the attic.”

“Oh,” Hannah said. Simon might be a ghost, but he’s still is a little kid. "Why? What's there to be scared of?"

"It's so dark! There could be anything up there..."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Like... like snakes! Or a vampire!"

The notion made her crack a smile. "I highly doubt there's a vampire in your attic. As for those snakes... I'll worry about those. Why don't we go up there together? We can find your moth and make sure there aren't any vampires while we're at it."

Simon sunk his chin to his chest, ashamed. "Okay..."

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of. Attics are scary. That’s what makes them attics. But you can’t be brave if you’re not scared first, right?”

“You’re… you’re right!” His eyes widened, giving him hope to overcome his fear. “But… I’d still like you to come with me. Just in case.”

* * *

 ** _Hannah and_** Simon stood in an upstairs hallway with a trapdoor in the ceiling, each of them was carrying a butterfly net. Hannah tugged on the rope, and the trapdoor opened. A ladder slid down from the opening, along with a thick cloud of dust.

“Ack!” Hannah said, coughing as the dust invaded her nostrils. “When was the last time anyone went up here?”

Simon looked alarmed but slightly remorseful. “I don’t know… there’s just a bunch of old junk, so we usually don’t bother.”

With a sigh, Hannah climbed up the ladder and emerged in the darkened attic, then turned to pull up Simon who was behind her. He stuck close to her, his small hand curled tightly in hers.

“See?” Simon said. They can barely see anything in here. “I told you it was scary.”

Hannah squinted around. The place was super creepy. Maybe they should just go back. 

_No, no, we can handle this... probably._

She should have brought a light with them. Her hand fished her pockets, then realized she forgot her phone by the nightstand in her guest room. “Yeah, don’t worry, I’m here.”

“Thanks, Hannah.”

Hannah peered through the gloom at the accumulated bric-a-brac, her eyes searching for any sign of movement. “Out of curiosity, what does this moth look like? How will I—”

“Shhhhh!”

“What?”

Simon pointed at an upturned chair to the right, where a dusty moth hung by its legs, nearly blending into the wood grain.

_The winter moth. There it is!_

“How did you spot that?” she asked.

“SHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“Sorry!”

Hannah drew closer to the moth raising her net slowly. She carefully crept up on the moth and swung her butterfly net down with a thud. “Gotcha!”

The moth went into a panic, beating its wings against the mesh of the net, but it can’t break free.

“You did it, Hannah!” Simon cheered. “Now let’s get out of here before I get scared again!”

As Simon started back down the ladder, Hannah noticed a dark shape in the shadowy recesses of the attic, and her blood ran cold.

“Who… Who’s there?”

“C’mon, Hannah! Let’s go!”

“Shh…” she hissed, feeling a lump stuck on her throat. “I think I see something…”

She stepped deeper into the attic, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath her feet. As she drew closer, the figure lurched out of the shadows at her.

Hannah screamed. She stumbled backward and fell hard against the floorboards. Jonathan’s not too pleasant form filled her vision as he wrapped his fingers around her throat, smothering her scream into a few terrified and muffled sobs.

“Hannah!” Simon yelled.

“Get off me!” She trashed on the floor as Jonathan’s weight pressed down on her, her eyes shut tight.

“Hannah, it’s just a mannequin!”

“Huh?” she gasped. She opened her eyes to find a mannequin wearing a velvet dinner jacket on top of her, its blank face inches from her own. “But... but I thought…”

Simon’s brows drew together. “Let’s just go, okay?”

_I could’ve sworn I saw my brother… am I going crazy?_

She shoved the mannequin off of her and takes one last look at the darkened corner of the attic before following Simon down the ladder.

Maybe it’s the shadows playing tricks on her, maybe the light being cruel, making her wonder if she’s just jumpy and seeing things.

Hannah and Simon returned to the parlor, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Sorry if I scared you, Simon… I don’t know what happened back there.”

“It’s okay,” he said as he went back to his wood-frame case. “Told you the attic was a scary place.”

“Yeah… let’s just focus on your insect collection. I need to think about something else.”

Simon looked from the blank space in his collection to the moth in the butterfly net, frowning.

“What’s wrong?” Hannah asked.

“Nothing, it’s just…” he gulped air. “Father usually did this part. I don’t know if I want to… to kill him. But… if I don’t, I’ll have to let him go. This way he’ll always stay the same forever … and I’ll never have to say goodbye.”

Hannah understood where he was coming from. If he let the moth go, his collection wouldn’t be completed. As much as Hannah wanted to tell him that he doesn’t have to kill insects to admire them and that they’re more interesting when they’re alive, Simon deserved this fulfillment.

“I think you should keep him.” She showed him an encouraging smile.

He nodded, contemplative. “Sorry little moth.” 

Simon stuck a pin through the moth’s body, and its wings flutter weakly before going still. 

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Thanks for helping me, Hannah… I’m not afraid of the attic anymore.” He looked sideways, meekly. “Well… not as much.”

Hannah chuckled at the thought of herself earlier. “It’s a process. Now, do you think I could borrow that key?”

Hannah held out her hand and Simon dropped the key into her palm. “Huh… it’s heavier than I expected. Thank you, Simon.”

“You’re welcome.”

* * *

 ** _Hannah left_** the parlor and searched the manor for Clarissa. She found her in the dining room with a journal open before her.

Clarissa’s eyes sparkled when she approached. “Hannah! We missed you at breakfast. Did you sleep in?”

“Yeah,” she chuckled. “I guess I was more tired than I thought. What are you working on?”

“Oh, this?” Clarissa instinctively closed the pages. “It’s… it’s nothing.”

“Come on, you can tell me… are you writing a story?”

Clarissa’s cheeks brightened as Hannah sat down beside her. “Poetry, actually. It’s… it’s for a boy. His name’s Edmund. He works in a shop in town.”

Hannah’s mouth slackened. “Oh, I see…”

It seemed that Clarissa wasn’t able to talk to her older sister about these types of conversations.

“Do you…” Clarissa began slowly. “Do you have any, you know, advice? For getting him to notice me?”

“Um... I’m not an expert, but I know a little.” Hannah hesitated. “Actually, I prefer girls.”

She waited for Clarissa’s reaction apprehensively. Mostly because she didn’t know how children from the turn of the 19th century would view people like her

A huge smile spread across Clarissa’s face. “Oh really? How adventurous!”

“Adventurous?” she gawked. “I have to admit, that wasn’t the reaction I was expecting... I thought you’d be more... scandalized.”

“Well... a lot of people in town might react like that. But I think sapphism is very modern and sophisticated.”

Hannah bit back a laugh and nodded. “I’m glad you agree. Sorry I can’t be more helpful with your boy problem.”

“Don’t be silly! Boys aren’t so different from girls, after all. Despite what Thomas thinks.” Her brows furrowed at the thought of her brother. She gazed back at Hannah, asking. “Is there any girl you have your eyes on?”

_Eleanor._

The thought took her by surprise. Hannah’s palms began sweating. 

_Did... Did I just think of her? Why did I think of her?_

Hannah eventually closed her eyes for a moment, her brow slightly crinkled in awkwardness. She wasn’t about to tell Clarissa that she liked her sister, but then again, the tender feelings she felt in her stomach was too much to ignore.

“Well, there’s this one girl,” Hannah went on carefully. She rarely found herself at a loss for words, she wasn’t sure what the protocol was when she’s about to tell the sister of her crush.

Clarissa leaned closer. “Do you like her?” 

“I… I think so,” Hannah felt a haunting rush of heat on her cheeks. “It’s just… maybe not the best time. You know what I mean.”

Clarissa blinked largely and nodded as well. “Not at all! Life is short, Hannah… why waste it wondering what could’ve been?”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Hey!” she slapped her shoulder, playfully. “At least I’m trying… I was thinking of sending Edmund a poem in the mail, to tell him how I feel. I know it’s a little bold, but I do love to write poetry.”

“In that case, I think it’s a wonderful idea. What do you have so far?”

“That’s just the problem…” Clarissa pursed her lips. “I just can’t seem to put my feelings into words. Everything comes out sounding stupid and childish!”

“Maybe you could write about how he makes you feel when you see him.”

“Well, I get very nervous, and my heart starts to beat faster,” Clarissa said. “And it becomes so difficult to get even the simplest words out. Like… like he’s stolen my voice or something.”

“That sounds like a good place to start.”

“You’re right!” Clarissa opened her journal by the bookmark. “How about this… _You tend a shop, but are a thief… for you have stolen my voice from me…"_

"I like it! Keep going." Hannah encouraged. 

_"The words don’t come, and so I write…_ What’s a good rhyme for ‘write’?”

“Hmm, let me think.” Hannah's eyes glanced down at where the words leading to an empty line before looking back up at inquisitive brown eyes. “ _The words don’t come, and so I write... I know I’ll think of you tonight_.”

“Are you sure that’s not too much?” Clarissa gasped.

“Better too much than too little, right?”

A rosy blush settled on the girl's cheeks. “If you say so… Let’s change the rhyme scheme for the last bit. How about… _when the sun burns out and Earth turns cold, and all the flowers bow their head, I’ll think about the things I left untold…”_

Clarissa tapped her pen on the paper, trying to think of a rhyme.

Hannah glanced down on the journal, her cheeks starting to turn a soft shade of pink when her thoughts went astray to the woman’s elegant maroon and black dress that hugged her body in all the right places. _“I’ll think of what I left untold and all the words that went unsaid.”_

“That’s great!” Clarissa said, excitedly writing down the words. “You’re so good at this, Hannah.”

“Hardly,” she licked her dried lips. “You’re the poet here, I’m just helping. Let’s see what you’ve got. Read it back to me.”

Clarissa held the journal out in front of her and cleared her throat.

_“You tend a shop, but are a thief, for you have stolen my voice from me. The words don’t come, and so I write. I know I’ll think of you tonight. When the sun burns out and the Earth turns cold and all the flowers bow their heads. I’ll think of what I left untold, and all the words that went unsaid.”_

“So,” Hannah said. “What’s next?”

“Well,” Clarissa snapped the journal shut once more. “I either mail it, or I get nervous and throw it in the fire.”

The latter suggestion caused Hannah to let out a silent gasp. “Surely there’s a middle ground here. I think you should set it aside for now, sometimes, it’s best to get your feelings out on paper, then find a way to say them in real life.”

“Interesting...I think I’ll do that!” A look of thrill washed over Clarissa's face before being replaced with confusion once more. “Although, come to think of it. I’m not sure when I’ll see Edmund next. It feels like it’s been forever since we went into town.”

Clarissa frowned, a faraway look in her eye.

Hannah could feel the sweat trailing behind her neck. “Well, I’m sure it just seems that way… nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah… I guess.” Clarissa shook her head, and her usual smile returned to her face. “Thanks for helping me, Hannah. I wish I had some way to repay you.”

“Uh, you might, actually… you know those keys you and your siblings have?”

Clarissa’s eyes widened. “You know about those?”

“I do. And… I was wondering if I could borrow yours. Just for a day or two.”

“Um…” she glanced around. “I want to say yes, Hannah, really. But…”

She could sense Clarissa stiffening slightly beside her, feel her muscles tense. “Eleanor told you not to?”

“She was... very emphatic about it,” Clarissa responded in a softer tone, still refusing to ever look Hannah in the eye.

"Clarissa,” she sighed. “I think there's something weird going on at Braidwood Manor. And I need those keys to find out what. Can you help me?

As she glanced over at the girl beside her, Hannah could almost see the gears turning within her mind as she though. "You know, I have noticed some strange noises at night. And Simon seemed to think there's some kind of... ghost or something in the house.”

Hannah nodded. It seemed that the girl needed more convincing. “Clarissa friends help each other. And right now, I’m asking for your help.”

“We are friends, but…” she paused, having reservations.

“But what?”

“Nothing, I guess… I don't know what to make of any of this, Hannah, but I'll help you.” Clarissa pulled an antique key like Simon’s from a pocket of her dress and pushed it on the table next to Hannah.

Clarissa’s key had a ‘C’ carved on its handle. 

Hannah picked it up with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Clarissa.”

“Look, if you’re going to…” Her eyebrows knit together and her jaw set in place. “To try to convince Thomas to give you his key, I should warn you. He’s not exactly the generous type. And he certainly doesn’t share my high opinion of you.”

It certainly sounded like a challenge. But Hannah had a lot of run-ins with children. “Well, maybe I can change his mind.”

Clarissa snorted. “Very funny, Hannah.”

Just then, Eleanor stepped into the dining room, and Hannah quickly slipped the key out of sight.


	5. Lock and Key part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I changed the timeline quite a bit. Not change, perse, just added another day. Because we all need more of Hannah and Eleanor acting like moms.

“Oh… hi, Eleanor.” Clarissa said, shifting nervously between them.

Eleanor narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Someone looks guilty. What have you two been up to?”

Clarissa seemed to tense on the spot, so Hannah reacted without a second thought. “We were just writing poetry.”

“Hannah was helping me with a poem I’m working on!” Clarissa added quickly.

Eleanor watched surprised, with her mouth slightly agape for a moment as she studied her. “That’s wonderful. I didn’t know you were a poet, Hannah.”

“Neither did I, actually.” Hannah shrugged ever so slightly. She shared a fretful glance with Clarissa.

“I suppose we all have our secrets. Hannah, would you come with me for a moment?”

Hannah caught a glimpse of Eleanor. She had her arms folded but Hannah couldn't help but notice the grudging attraction in her eye as she glanced at Hannah and glanced away again, her eyes flickering over the dress she lent, her face. Eleanor turned back to her, smiling, and unfolded her arms.

“Of course.” 

With a nod and a silent goodbye to Clarissa, Hannah followed Eleanor out to the foyer, where she paused before the manor doors. They stood in silence for a moment, neither knowing what to say to the other. Finally, the silence was broken by Eleanor.

“Hannah, about this morning.” She began, biting the inside of her cheek. “I’m sorry I ran off. I just… I didn’t expect that that’s all.” 

Hannah’s heartbeat started to quicken as flashes of her unfazed flirting with her host played through her head. “Don’t be sorry! I’m the one who should be apologizing. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Eleanor looked over her shoulder at Hannah, a slight smile curving her lips. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

Before Hannah can reply, Eleanor threw open the manor doors and strode out into the wintry landscape beyond. 

Hannah hurried to keep up. “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere in particular, I just wanted to take a turn about the grounds and thought you might like to join me.” She arched an inquisitive eyebrow. “Was I wrong?”

“No...” she replied. A small smirk of triumph formed on her lips.

Hannah walked alongside Eleanor down the front steps of Braidwood Manor, the snow falling gently around Hannah. The sun hidden in the clouds, but a few rays peeked through sparkling on the freshly fallen snow. Hannah gasped as her eyes roamed through the magical winter wonderland. She even spotted an icy clear water pond. There was a small tool shed over by the side of the grounds, the roof sprinkled with snow like the hut of some Christmas elf, and outside the shed was a large tree stump with a cloven face that was covered in ax marks from chopping firewood.

“Wow… it’s so beautiful out here!” 

Eleanor looked up at the sky and nodded. A snowflake landed in her hair and stayed there, unmelting.

“Hannah…” she said, her cheeks getting heated from either the cold or something else entirely. “I’d like us to get to know one another better. My father always said that no friendship is truly sealed until you’ve shared a secret. Perhaps we can do just that. What do you think?”

The soft words of the woman standing beside her did nothing to still the sudden pounding in Hannah's chest. Instead, she quickly shook her head, trying not to stumble over her words. “I think that sounds wonderful.”

A smile spread across her lips. “I was hoping you’d say that. Come with me.”

Hannah followed Eleanor across the grounds until they come to a frozen fountain in the courtyard. It was powdered white like an enormous pastry, and snow had dusted the tops of the stark green hedgerows, yet for some reason, the pathway was cleared of snow.

Eleanor sat on the rim and patted the spot beside her. Hannah froze at the thought of being so close to her before easing into the seat.

“Hannah,” she said. “Can I ask you a… a personal question?”

“Of course.”

“Your brother, what happened to him?”

The question took her off guard. Hannah averted her eyes, her throat closing up.

“I’m sorry, that was a terrible thing to ask. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Hannah should have known that knowing each other better meant sharing secrets. Pain crawled beneath her surface. It crept along her spine. Insecurity made her out of control, guilt removed her control. She doesn’t trust herself. She doesn’t trust the power in her veins, she has only lost control too many times. 

But she will control it. 

There was something about Eleanor that made the prospect easier. She let her eyes roam over Eleanor’s searching face. Her glossy lips, her pale skin, her long dark hair in a side braid. 

_ She really was special.  _

Hannah didn't fully understand why, but she was. There was just something about her that separated her from every other man or woman she had ever met. Something that she can feel connected with. They both felt lost, but with each other, there was comfort, protectiveness, and safety. 

“It’s okay I’m ready to talk about it.” Hannah looked out across the white expanse of snow, her eyes prickling with hot tears.

Eleanor nodded, patiently.

With a long deep breath, she brought in the courage. “He died in… in a car crash. It was around Christmas, and he was home for the holidays. I was still in high school then. We were… we were actually going to be at the same college this year. He was driving back home after a holiday party, and he just… went off the road. The same road he’d driven a thousand times.”

“What was different this time?”

Hannah fell silent, and Eleanor looked abashed.

“I’m so sorry, Hannah… you don’t have to tell me that if you don’t want to. I know what it’s like to lose loved ones. There’s nothing harder.”

Hannah nodded, blinking back tears. “I just sometimes wished that Jonathan wouldn’t haunt me like this. I have no idea what he even wants from me.”

Eleanor didn't say anything. She seemed to shrink in size on Hannah's stomach. Her body curled inwards and she made herself as small as she could. 

"Eleanor?" Hannah said, worried about what was happening.

She didn't answer.

"Eleanor, are you all right?" 

She muffled something but it was barely audible.

"I can't hear you," Hannah said.

Eleanor took in a deep breath. "I apologize. I just had a horrid thought. I mean... while I do not approve of haunting a sibling, I can’t help but be relieved that he did, because if he hadn’t, then you would not have come here and met me... and the children.”

"Mhmm," Hannah smirked. "I'm glad I met you. I’m glad you are who you are. I'm glad you're a loving elder sister and I'm glad you're Eleanor."

"Really?" 

"I promise," Hannah said.

“I’m sorry for opening an old wound.” Eleanor laid her hand on top of Hannah’s and smiled sadly. “But at least you have your health, right?”

Hannah laughed despite herself. “You have a funny way of looking at things.”

“Being dead will do that to you,” she said, again with that deadpan tone. 

“Eleanor…” she started.

“Don’t look so gloomy. I was just trying to lighten the mood. Speaking of which…” her brows drew together. “I suppose it’s my turn to share secret.”

Hannah gazed at her in half-amusement. “This should be good… I can’t imagine what sort of secrets a ghost might have.”

“I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. It’s… rather embarrassing, actually.” Eleanor looked down, her fingers fidgeting with the end of her braid. “You see… I’ve… I’ve never been kissed before.”

“That’s your big secret.” She teased with a huge smile.

Now Eleanor gazed up at her with her dark and lidded eyes. “Mhmm. Disappointed?”

Hannah hadn’t known where the surge of confidence came from. Maybe it was from the beautiful scenery, maybe because she was experiencing a weird phenomenon, or maybe it was because of the beautiful lady in front of her. She closed the space between them as she spoke. “On the contrary, I think we should change that."

Hannah leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Eleanor’s lips.

The bliss ended as quickly as it came. And she instantly noticed that Eleanor didn’t feel warm, not exactly cold, but not exactly like a person even.

Eleanor backed away from the sudden leap of intimacy. “Hannah… I…”

“Should I…” she feared the look on Eleanor’s face. “Should I not have done that?” 

Hannah started to back away when Eleanor pulled her close, her mouth finding Hannah’s. Hannah closed her eyes as Eleanor laid her hand against her cheek. The kiss was quite rhapsodizing and Hannah found herself wrapping Eleanor up in her arms. The softness of her was intoxicating.

It was Hannah who broke the kiss, quite satisfied with it, and in need to breathe. “Wow… that was…”

“Unexpected?” Eleanor provided.

Hannah grinned with her heart beating wildly in her chest. Her trance faded when she also noticed that Eleanor has no heartbeat, but she made sure not to show her discovery through her face.

It was a success. Eleanor had no idea.

She pressed a kiss to Eleanor's temple. "It’s getting dark, do you want to get started with dinner? I’ll come help now, of course.” 

“Yes, and thank you, I’d love the help.” Eleanor took Hannah’s hand shyly and pulled her up from the fountain. 

There was somehow eerily domestic as they worked together to prepare for a meal. When it comes to cooking, Hannah knew limited ones but at least she knew how to cut some vegetables. Eleanor was the star of the kitchen. She handled the ingredients with care and precision of someone who had been cooking for the last hundred years.

As soon as everything was nearly done, footsteps echoed down the hall. Simon and Clarissa trudged through the kitchen entrance, smelling the luscious scent of goose glazed in an orange sauce, with brussels sprouts, potatoes, and carrots.

"You're just in time!" Eleanor sang out to them. "Dinner should be ready in an hour!" She made a shoo-ing motion with her hands, "Go clean up and we’ll bring everything out in the table!" 

The children did as they were told while Hannah helped Eleanor in setting the table up. As soon as it was over, and the children sat down in their respective seats, Eleanor looked around.

“Where’s Thomas?”

“I saw him head towards Father’s study hours ago!” Simon provided.

“He still could there,” Eleanor said, wiping her hands on a white apron she wore over her dress. “Hannah, will you be a dear and fetch him for me?”

“Of course,” Hannah replied and went out of the dining room to fetch him.

As expected, Thomas was sitting at his father’s desk, a dusty photograph in hand.

Without so much as glancing around the room, Hannah asked. “Whose photograph is that?”

“None of your business,” he snapped, putting the photograph back to the desk. Facedown to make sure Hannah can’t see who or what the picture was.

"What do you want?"

_ What exactly is his problem with me? _

"I wanted to check in," came Hannah’s friendly reply, as though they were two old friends who had been too busy to catch up. “It’s been a while.”

Thomas looked like a migraine was forming between his eyes. 

"You don’t have to be that annoyed. I just wanted to talk to you." 

“Could you just leave me be?” he asked, taking a deep breath, he massaged the bridge of his nose. 

“I could, but then Eleanor wanted me to tell you to come down and have dinner.”

Thomas made to push his seat out from the table. “Fine, let’s head back down.”

Hannah blocked his way and stared at him. Thomas gave him an equally challenging stare. “We’ll have dinner and then we're going to talk, okay?"

"Okay," Thomas said, rolling his eyes. “Whatever gets you to stop pestering me.”

Dinner came. But the talk didn't. Thomas surely did not want to discuss what he was looking at, with his lips upside down in a sad frown. He was more than unwilling to even be in the same room with Hannah. So they ate dinner and as soon as Thomas finished, he sped to his room, earning a slight frown from Eleanor about his boorish behavior.

With a sigh, Hannah contemplated that talking to Thomas will have to be continued tomorrow. There was no point in pursuing it now. The moon was high up in the sky and children will be too tired to commit to anything, especially if they don’t want to do it.

Hannah brought the dinner plates, glasses and utensils to the sink to help Eleanor wash them. The silence stretched on between. A silence so comfortable Hannah loved the feeling of having a domesticated life with Eleanor.

Even if all of this was a lie, and that this house was actually in ruins.

While Eleanor went upstairs to draw Simon and Clarissa to their bedroom doors, Hannah stayed downstairs with a coffee in her hands, staring out of the window onto the snowing horizon.

“Are you staying up a bit more?”

Hannah’s train of thoughts halted when Eleanor looked at her over the balcony’s second-floor landing.

“You shouldn’t stay up so late like this,” Eleanor continued. “If you have to, it would be better to do it with company.”

“I might,” she said. But when she caught a glimpse of Hannah’s disappointed pout, she curled up her lips. “Why Miss Waverly, is this a late-night invitation for us to hang out?”

Eleanor flushed darkly and looked away. "Not necessarily, I intend to for us to wake early to get a headstart for breakfast."

Hannah chuckled. "Okay, I'll sleep soon."

And with that, Eleanor walked away, footsteps echoing as it disappeared.

Hannah smiled. She returned the cup she drank to the cabinet after washing it and headed towards her room. Her curiosity burning as she cannot wait to find out what the metal door hid.

* * *

_** The next ** _ morning, Hannah managed to wake up early. She helped Eleanor prepare breakfast which consisted of pancakes and lots of strawberries but it was made with buckwheat instead.

“Flapjacks!” Simon yelled as soon as he and the others arrived at the dining table. “It’s been a while since you’ve made any!” 

“Yeah, what’s the occasion?” Clarissa asked.

Eleanor let out a giggle. “To celebrate having Hannah with us.” 

Simon squirted syrup over his stack of pancakes and even put some in his glass of orange juice to which Thomas his curled his lips in disgust.

Hannah took a bite of her pancake. She loved the taste of the celebration.

I could get used to this.

She could imagine staying. She could imagine living with the children, and Eleanor. But in doing so, she’d be leaving her old life behind. She needed to continue with her old mission. Find the reason why the Waverleys still stayed so she can figure out why Jonathan still was.

Her deep thought must have shown on her face when Simon said: “Why are you making that face, Miss Hannah?”

Clarissa let out a giggle. “She could be thinking of a way on how to confess her feelings to her—”

“Not at all!” Hannah yelled over Clarissa’s voice, feeling the haunting rush color on her cheeks. 

She gave a meek glance towards Eleanor’s way who in return stared at her as though she was funny. 

Hannah was taken off-guard. She munched down the rest of her pancakes and flushed it down with a solid mouthful of coffee as she thought of an excuse. “I’m thinking about you call pancakes flapjacks.”

“Pancakes?” they echoed in question.

She nodded, going on a conversation of how people have different names for things. 

After breakfast, the children all went out to do their daily activities, leaving Hannah to help with Eleanor in cleaning the dishes and the table. Once their menial housework was done, Eleanor offered Hannah a hand.

“Shall we go?”

That piqued Hannah’s curiosity. She hadn’t known that Eleanor had a taste of adventure or something daring. “Where are we going?”

“Come on. There’s something I want to show you.”

No matter how many times they have held hands, Eleanor was still bashful, but with her shy courage, she took Eleanor’s hand and brought her outside the manor once more. Smiled were exchanged, as Eleanor turned toward the forest on the edge of the estate. 

They traipsed through the black palings of trees with their hands held, not rushing, just walking, the morning left behind them and now in the afternoon. Hannah followed Eleanor across the grounds of Braidwood Manor and pass under a canopy of twisted branches.

“Where are we going?” 

By now they were clearly out of the Manor and Hannah could see nothing but the snow and dark shapes of trees. There weren't even any streetlamps for the nearest town of Northbridge was miles away.

Oddly, she wasn't the least bit afraid.

“You’ll see. It’s not far now…” Eleanor looked at her and Hannah gave her a charming smile with her red lipstick.

They circled through the snow cloaked forest, stepping over rocks and tree roots. Hannah came to a graveyard at the edge of the woods. Overhead, a lone raven peered down its beak at her.

“What is this place, Eleanor?”

“This is the family plot, Hannah. Where my siblings and I are buried.”

She read the names of the tombstones all lined up. “But… why are we here?”

“I come here sometimes, to be alone. There’s something… oddly comforting about it. It’s bittersweet, I suppose… to know that my siblings and I are down there, under Earth, where no one can hurt us again. I know it’s odd, but it makes me feel safe, somehow.”

Hannah’s face hardened with fierce sympathy and she looked at her steadily. “Oh, I think I know what you mean. After what happened to you… I can see how this would be comforting.”

A small melancholic smile danced on her lips. “I knew you’d understand. That’s why I wanted to share this place with you.”

Her words and the unconditional trust and love in them had given Hannah a warm glow.

_ Eleanor trusts me enough. _

Hannah walked slowly through the small cemetery, reading each headstone in turn before meeting Eleanor’s gaze. “Don’t the children ever come here? How can they not know that they’re...” her throat constricted for a while. “That they’re dead when this is just outside their door?”

“I’ve forbidden them from going too far beyond the manor.”

“And they obey you?” Hannah was struck by how amazing Eleanor was. She was the rock and the light in the manor, taking the role of both of her parents and took care of her siblings.

“For the most part... I once caught Simon looking for dragonflies by the pond, but otherwise, they’re very well-behaved. If any of them were to find this place…” her shoulder slumped as if a metaphorical weight perched on her shoulders. “I’m not sure what I would do.”

Hannah comes to two headstones close together, with the names ‘William’ and ‘Rose.’ 

“Are these your parents? Your father’s date of death is five years after the rest of yours.”

The question was met with a resounding silence. Eleanor had gone too quiet that Hannah had to turn around to make sure she wasn’t alone. 

Hannah gazed at her. Eleanor was strange in a way not even she was. There was something cold about her eyes that didn’t seem to convey the warmth of a regular dutiful daughter like she liked to think of herself, or the grieving elder sister of three loving siblings.

“Yes,” she murmured. 

Hannah went over to her and clasped her hand. To ground her, to let her feel she wasn’t all alone. Not anymore.

When Eleanor looked up, Hannah could see how badly her eyes longed for tears to wash away this sorrow that seemed as fresh as the day it came to her. Eleanor blinked rapidly a few times. Then she shook her head and dropped Hannah’s hand and forced another smile.

“He,” Eleanor began. “He was the one who found us. It destroyed him. He left for Northbridge and eventually drank himself to death. They brought him home for the burial.”

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Eleanor.”

“It’s quite alright. He was a wonderful father when I was still alive. I’ll always have those memories of him.” Eleanor smiled again, that same angelic smile that sorted so oddly with her demeanor of melancholy and mourning. 

“And your mother?”

Eleanor’s expression went cold. Love and warmth slipping from her face, making it stoic like those marble sculptures in their grand home. “Don’t bother mourning her. That grave is empty.” 

Something was chilling in her voice. Some unresolved wrath. She looked strict and deadly, something Hannah wondered if it was a triggered response or a defense mechanism.

“What?”

Eleanor turned to leave, her thick braid swinging behind her and strode off into the woods, leaving Hannah standing alone in the cemetery.

“Eleanor, wait!”

_ If Eleanor’s mother died the same day as her children… where’s the body?  _

_ And where is her ghost now? _


	6. Behind Closed Doors Part 1

Her stomach felt as though it were doing somersaults. She didn’t mean to make Eleanor so upset. As Eleanor struck off for the manor, Hannah hurried to follow her across the snow.

“Eleanor, wait! Why is your mother’s grave empty? What does that mean?”

Guilt instantly flooded Hannah’s stomach for bringing it up. But she needed to know why Eleanor was full of anger.

“It doesn’t matter! Just…” Her voice thickened and stopped. “Just leave me alone! It was a mistake to bring you out here.”

Hurt flashed across her face. She can’t actually mean that. Hannah knew she was upset but she hadn’t realized the gravity of the situation. Of how much she had provoked Eleanor with an unknown trigger.

_All I want to do now is to fix this._

“Eleanor! Please, I just want to help!”

Eleanor whirled on Hannah, her fists clenched at her sides. Anger simmered in her throat. “I don’t want your help, okay! Why can’t you understand that?”

Face flushed, Eleanor hung her head as silence passed between them.

“Eleanor…” her face hardened with sympathy and hurt. 

“I’m sorry, Hannah.” She said, darting eyes her eyes that would not meet her own. “There are some secrets I’m just not ready to share. That I’ll never be ready to share. You of all people should know how that feels.”

Eleanor turned to leave again, but Hannah caught her arm before she can go.

“Maybe I haven’t told you everything but you don’t get to use that against me. Just because I have my own pain doesn’t mean I can’t help with yours! We each have our own pain, Eleanor. It might help to share it. It’s not too late to start.”

Hannah could feel her anger rising again, but with a quick look Eleanor silenced her.

Eleanor’s lip trembled, but she was remarkably stable. Her eyes, though tired, were clear as they looked at her. “You think you know pain, Hannah, but you don’t. Not like this.”

She wished she could have hold onto her tighter, but it was easier to let someone go rather than keep them. Eleanor slipped loose from her grasp and strides up the steps of Braidwood Manor without a second glance, leaving Hannah alone in the cold. 

Hannah had never felt anything like the bone-aching cold of how Eleanor Waverley left her like that. Not even the winter in the city was so devoid of warmth of this scale.

_I don’t know what secret Eleanor’s keeping hidden behind that locked door… but it’s tearing her apart. I need to collect those keys… for her sake as much as my own._

Hannah shut the manor’s doors against the biting cold and stepped into the foyer, finding no sign of Eleanor. The warmth was slowly enveloping her into a warm hug, but the pain and rejection from Eleanor’s outburst stayed. 

Just then, Simon and Clarissa come hurtling down the stairs, their faces were stricken.

“Hannah, there you are! Clarissa’s voice rose in panic.

“What did you say to Eleanor?” Simon asked.

Though her jaw was set in determination, Hannah’s eyes were strangely hollow “Uh…” she had no idea what to tell them.

They had come running in case of some emergency and they saw the wake of the commotion of her fight with their elder sister. There was nothing she could say.

“Nothing important.” As soon as she said that, Hannah could see the confusion and disbelief struggling in Clarissa’s eyes.

“Well, she didn’t look happy…” Clarissa said.

A lump formed in her throat. Hannah knew the answer, but why did it feel like she had been caught doing something naughty?

“Why? Where is she?”

“She went straight to her room and locked the door!” Simon yelled, but a frown marred his infantile features.

Hannah sighed thoughtfully. “Seems like locked doors are becoming a theme for her…” 

“Hannah, that’s not funny! Whatever you said must’ve really hurt her feelings!” Clarissa said, reproaching. For a second there, she mirrored Eleanor’s angry visage.

Hannah knew Clarissa was right, and it only added the permanent guilt that settled on her stomach. “I wasn’t trying to be funny it’s just… don’t you two ever wonder why Eleanor has so many rules? So many secrets?”

“Well… sort of.” Simon said. “She never lets us wander very far from the house…”

“Or leave our rooms after dark…” Clarissa added.

“Or ask any questions about Mother and Father, or why we never see any of our relatives, or—”

“All right, Simon, that’s enough. We see what you’re getting at, Hannah.”

“Good,” Hannah said. “Then you see why I need to get Thomas’s key. I need to find out what’s behind that door.”

The youngest gasped, and his sister exclaimed. “But even if you convince Thomas, which you won’t you’ll still need to get Eleanor’s key somehow!”

Hannah’s shoulders sagged. Her reasoning made sense. “I’ll worry about that later. Have either of you seen Thomas?”

“No…” Simon said. “But I hear him! He must be practicing piano in the parlor!”

The delicate notes of the piano echoed through the empty rooms and stone walls of the manor. A haunting but beautiful melody ringing through their ears.

“Not a good time to disturb him.” An uneasy frown graced Clarissa’s face. “He’s not very talkative at the best of times, but when he’s practicing…”

“Once, I asked him to play with me when he was at the piano, and he shut me in the pantry for five whole minutes!” Simon yelled. “I nearly starved to death!”

The room grew silent at his admission.

_But the pantry is where all the food is._

“Well,” Hannah said. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take…”

Leaving Clarissa and Simon in the foyer, Hannah entered the parlor to find Thomas playing a lovely melody on the piano. Hannah stood quietly in the corner, waiting for him to finish. Then he hit a wrong chord, the discordant notes jarring him out of the piece.

“Damn it!” He gritted his teeth. “Stupid song… I’ll never learn it!”

Hannah awkwardly cleared her throat, and Thomas turned around on the bench to face her.

“What do you want?” There was so much gel in his hair that Hannah was grateful the day was snowy and that they were indoors. Had the sun been out, she was certain they would all surely have been blinded.

“Hello to you, too,” she said. This child was becoming a testament to her patience. “What song is that?”

He turned his back before he could see Hannah’s reaction. “What does it matter? I’ll never be able to play it anyway.”

“Why not?”

Thomas let out a derisive hiss, staring at the piano keys. Now his eyes swung coldly to her. “Because it’s a duet, and the only other person in this family who can play worth a damn went off to war years ago.”

Hannah had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from saying something rude in return. She wouldn't give Thomas the rise he wanted. “You mean your father?”

Thomas turned back toward the piano, his shoulders slumped. “Yes, I mean my father, we were learning this piece when he left… And he hasn’t come back.”

Hannah sat beside Thomas on the bench, and he flinched away from her. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to play the other part, Thomas. I know I’m not your father, and I probably can’t play as well… But at least you’ll be ready for him when he comes home.”

Thomas glared suspiciously at Hannah. “What is this about? What do you want from me? If you want me to talk about my feelings, you can forget it. We’re not going to be friends.”

“Then we don’t have to talk. We can just play.”

Hannah turned to face the sheet music, wondering what piece it was. It didn’t seem familiar to her, so it could have been an original song passed down onto their family. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Thomas do the same.

“Hmph,” Thomas said. “Okay, Then… the chords you need to play are C minor, G minor, and A flat, in that order. Ready?”

She stretched her fingers. Hannah had no idea if she can still remember how to play. She hasn’t played in years. Hannah recalled playing piano back then but she couldn’t quite reach her older brother’s level.

When she realized she couldn’t amount to anything Jonathan was ever good at, she had just about to give it up when she finished high school, and learning an instrument was no longer required.

But once Hannah’s hand stretched out to slowly play the other section of the piece, she knew she can still do it. “Okay let's take it from the top.”

“Perfect! Now, you just keep playing those chords, and I’ll come in with my part…”

Their fingers moved across the ivory keys. Soon, Hannah and Thomas are playing the duet perfectly, Thomas hitting every single note of the melody while Hannah provided the harmony.

“Finally!” Thomas smirked, proud of himself.

“Sounds pretty good, huh?”

Hannah finished the piece, and Thomas closed the lid of the keyboard.

“Still in a bad mood?” she asked with a soft chuckle.

“No, not so much.” He responded in a softer tone. “I… I suppose I should say thank you.”

“I think that would be appropriate. But if you really want to thank me… there’s something I need your help with.”

“Ah, now the truth comes out… of course you had an ulterior motive.”

Hannah felt uneasy under the intensity of his gaze. “Thomas, I’m sorry I lied to you I just… didn’t know how else to get you to agree to help. You wouldn't have listened to me otherwise. I mean, would you have even agreed to talk to me this long normally?"

"I guess not."

"Exactly. You didn't really leave me much choice, Thomas. For what it's worth, I really did enjoy helping you practice, though.”

“Well…” he shrugged nonchalantly. “At least now I’ll be able to play this song properly with my father when he comes home. And that’s all thanks to you. So… if you want my help, you’ve got it.”

A warm relief went over her. “That’s great to hear, Thomas… because I really need to borrow your key. I need to know what Eleanor’s hiding behind that locked door.”

“Why didn’t you just say so?” he said, surprise smoothening the frown lines on his face. “I’ve been wanting to know the same thing for…” he faltered, unable to put a specific date. “for I don’t know how long.”

“Really?” she thought that Thomas wouldn’t trust her, or be outraged for even asking. 

“Of course!” He said, voice rising. The permanent frown returning to his face. “You think I haven’t noticed how much Eleanor isn’t telling us. As far as I can remember, that door doesn’t even lead anywhere special… it just goes to the cellar!”

“The cellar? Really?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled. “Last time I checked, there’s nothing down there but the furnace.”

“The furnace? That might explain the fire. Maybe I didn’t see what I thought I saw.” She mumbled to herself before speaking up. “You don’t think there’s something more? Thomas… when’s the last time you were actually in the cellar?”

Thomas looked frustrated, his brow furrowed in concentration. “It must’ve been a long time ago… but it couldn’t have been that long ago… I can’t seem to remember. Why can’t I remember?”

“I don’t know, Thomas. I’m sorry.” Her voice filled with sympathy. “All I can say is… if you help me, we can find out the truth together.”

Thomas pulled a key from inside his vest and handed it to Hannah. “Here. Take it.”

Like his siblings, his key has his first initial carved on the handle. “Thank you, Thomas. I promise this will all make sense.”

“When?”

“Soon, I hope.”

Just then, Hannah heard a sudden crash as the parlor door sprung open. Simon and Clarissa tumbled onto the floor.

After the initial surprise, she stood from the bench and headed over to them. “Simon? Clarissa? What are you two doing?

Thomas raised his eyebrows. “Don’t tell me you were listening at the keyhole.” 

“That is certainly not what we were doing!” Clarissa exclaimed, casting a glance on her younger brother. “We were just—”

“—testing the door!” Simon added. “It works!”

“Ugh.” Thomas groaned, rolling his eyes. “Someone really needs to teach you how to lie better, Simon.”

The two children shared a look, wondering how they could be more convincing now that they were caught.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d get Thomas’ key?” Hannah said to alleviate the tension and let out a giggle. “So how long were you two eavesdropping?”

“Not for very long!” Simon said.

“Just long enough to hear that you convinced Thomas of all people to hand over his key.” Clarissa grinned, mirth dancing in her eyes. “Color me impressed.” 

“Now all that’s left is Eleanor’s,” Hannah said.

Thomas tilted his nose upward and offered a small prideful smirk. “Good luck with that. Eleanor keeps that key with her at all times, and she’d never just hand it over. If you want to get your hands on it, you’re going to have to steal it.”

Hannah moved to the parlor window and stared out at the crisp field of snow beyond. 

_I don’t think I could just take it off her without her noticing… but maybe Simon could. If the rest of us kept her distracted… But I’d feel guilty asking him to do that for me._

Hannah’s gaze was heavy as she studied the Waverley children. All traces of their earlier cheer were gone now.

_Then again… I could always take it from her in her sleep._

_It would mean betraying her trust… but I’d only be doing it to help her._

_And it would be nice to be alone with her._

Hannah remembered how Eleanor’s hair shone in the candlelight, how she knew she was looking at her, but she played coy. The thought alone of being with Eleanor sparked her heart to lurch forward.

Something crossed Hannah’s face, and for a moment it seemed as though she was guilty in thinking such a thing while in the presence of Eleanor’s siblings. Hannah exhaled slowly and turned her head to look through the snow-stricken glass of the window.

_So how should I steal Eleanor’s key?_

_I will take from her in her sleep._

After giving it a deliberate thought, Hannah turned from the window to face the Waverleys with renewed determination. “I know what I’m going to do. I… I can’t tell you what, exactly, but if you just leave this to me, I’ll have that door open by tomorrow morning.”

Simon's frown deepened as he spoke. “Why can’t you tell us?”

Hannah was terrified at the thought of telling them what her plan was comprised of. To stay the night with their older sister in a possibly but hopeful manner. 

“It's… complicated.” She said, attempting to convince not just the children but herself. “But it’ll work. I think…”

“Great,” Thomas said, sass seeping through. “That’s reassuring…”

“Just promise us this.” Clarissa began. “Whatever you find out—”

“You three will be the first to know, I promise,” Hannah said.

If it weren't for her current predicament, Hannah wouldn’t have deliberately said that. She wasn’t sure if she can get the chance to tell them before Eleanor gets wind of what she was up to.

She sighed inwardly. And even if she did, she would have to drop the bomb of the biggest secret Eleanor fought so hard to keep.

_I hope I_ _can to tell them sooner, rather than later_ , _but it all depends on the circumstances._

Hannah had no idea how the children were going to react, but she knew that they would come around.

Instead, she offered the children a small smile. “I don’t know what Eleanor’s hiding, but whatever it is… some secrets are too big for just one person. Wish me luck.”


	7. Behind Closed Doors Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for ah... smut, I guess.

Hannah left Clarissa, Thomas, and Simon in the parlor and wandered the manor in search of Eleanor. As Hannah crossed the foyer, she looked up to see Eleanor peering down from the second-floor landing. 

“There you are!” Hannah lit up. “Can we talk?”

Eleanor visibly stiffened at her admission. “I… I don’t think I’m ready to talk to you, Hannah.”

Hannah hurried up the stairs to keep up with her when she disappeared from view. Her heart pounded wildly in her ribcage, drawing nearer to the woman who’s gotten her affection. “Eleanor, wait, please! I’m sorry for pressuring you earlier… I didn’t mean to make you so upset.”

Eleanor turned at the end of the hall, looking reproachful. “I know you didn’t mean to, Hannah, but you did. I’m not just… some mystery for you to solve. I have feelings, you know.”

She didn’t stop a beat. “Feelings… for me?”

Hannah took a step closer, and Eleanor looked wary, curling a fist to her chest in a defensive posture.

“I… I didn’t say that…”

Hannah took the brunette’s hand in hers, looking her in the eye. “Eleanor… I know you’re more than just your secrets. And that’s the part of you I want to know more about. Just come sit with me for a while, and we can talk about anything you like.”

She did a double-take at Hannah’s eyes and there were the tell-tale flashes of attraction on her own. “So you won’t ask me any more of your difficult questions?”

Hannah closed the space between them as she spoke until there was barely room for air between the tips of their noses. “We don’t even have to talk at all if you don’t want.”

Eleanor’s cheeks turned red and were left sputtering for words again as she stared back at Hannah. Her face crimson red with heat and embarrassment. “You’re incorrigible.”

Hannah took Eleanor by the hand and led her to her bedroom. She shut the door softly behind. Eleanor stood awkwardly in the center of the room, at a loss.

“Do you want to… sit down?”

“Yes, of course. Sorry, I suppose I’m a bit... nervous.”

Hannah sat on the edge of her bed, and Eleanor sat down beside her, Eleanor’s hands on either side of her, frigid.

“So… let’s talk.”

“Oh,” Eleanor said, a little panicked. “Um… I can’t think of anything I want to talk about.”

“Really?” she grinned, leaning closer to her. “I thought you’d have lots of questions. Aren’t you curious about, you know, my world?”

Eleanor’s smile was as warm as spring sunlight. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind hearing about it.”

“Then I’ll tell you about my life at school. I attend a university called Hartfeld, which isn’t really that far from here. Sort of near Northbridge, actually.”

“And what do you study?”

“Uh...” the question took her off guard. “This and that. I’m still deciding what to major in, actually.”

“What about ancient history?” she said. “Since you seem to find me so fascinating?”

Hannah smiled at Eleanor and let her hand brushed up against her on the bed. “You’re not ancient history, though. You’re here and now. With me.”

Eleanor’s cheeks turned rosy. Hannah rather enjoyed how much she made her fluster.

“And your family?” Eleanor asked. “Could you tell me about them?”

She frowned. “To be honest, I had a very... privileged childhood. My family was upper-middle class, and I had a good education. But... things at home weren’t always great. My parents were so focused on Jonathan and all his achievements, they hardly seemed to care about me. Obviously, they took it pretty hard when... when he passed away. I used to hate them for caring so little about me, but now... I have to feel sorry for them.”

Eleanor wrapped her in an embrace, an arm slid up to begin rubbing soothing circles on her back. Hannah's eyes fluttered shut at the contact. It felt wonderful and despite her terror at being so vulnerable, the comfort she was receiving was addicting.

“I understand how you feel.”

Hannah clung to the only solid thing and pressed her face into a soft neck that quickly became slick with her silent tears. She knew she would be ashamed about her emotional response once she calmed, but for now, she needed to feel as though she was cared for. Unconditionally.

Her parents hadn’t provided it for her. They were away from home a lot, and she was left on her own to deal with life at an early age.

Neither knew how long they stayed like that, but they hadn’t bothered to move even after her sobs finally subsided. She couldn’t fight the comfort she so desperately needed and had always been denied in life.

“Do you want to talk more about it?” Eleanor asked softly, not stopping her movements. 

“No,” she replied. 

“Okay, we don’t have to,” Eleanor said, “We can stay like this for as long as you need.” 

A hollow chuckle vibrated against her chest. Hannah met her eyes and saw a look of understanding crossed Eleanor’s features.

“I’m sorry to hear about it, Hannah. It’s... it’s so difficult to know how to feel sometimes.”

Hannah squeezed her hand once more, hoping to provide comfort. A change of subject was in order. “Not right now, it’s not.”

She removed the band that held Eleanor’s braid together, untangling her hair. She threaded her hands through thick dark brown curls and pressed Eleanor’s head to the crook of her neck, silently urging her lips to meet with hers.

Eleanor did so with no resistance. Her smell... the scents of lavender and vanilla had flooded Hannah’s senses immediately. Hannah then pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” Eleanor asked.

Hannah pursed her lips. “Maybe I want you to kiss me this time.”

Eleanor bit her lip, looking nervous again.

“Oh, um…” Eleanor closed her eyes and kissed Hannah, softly at first, and then more insistently. The two of them fall back together onto the bed, and Eleanor pulled her closer still, laying her hand against Hannah’s chest.

Their kiss was obscenely affectionate and it caused Hannah’s heart to flare, her body to hum, and her blood to sing for Eleanor.

Eleanor broke the kiss all of a sudden. “Hannah…” she moaned.

She was straddling Eleanor’s hips by now, lying flat across her, and Hannah grinned at her with her face barely inches above mine. “Mmm?”

“Nothing, just… just don’t stop.”

Hannah smirked. “I wasn’t planning to.” She wrapped her arms around the girl's body and kissed her neck.

Eleanor gasped, a laugh escaping her lips. When Hannah's kiss grew deeper she let out a pleased hum. Hannah swore she heard Eleanor moan. She rarely ever made noise when they kissed. And when she did Hannah would replay it in her head over and over like a record. She traced her fingers down to Eleanor's hips and her hands found rest on Eleanor's ass. She squeezed gently, having never done that before.

"Mmph," Eleanor murmured, her chocolate eyes sparkling. "That was… I mean... "

Hannah grinned breathlessly at her, and Eleanor grinned back. The kiss had pinkened her cheeks and unruffled her braided hair, and Hannah was suddenly struck by how beautiful she was.

"I think the word you're looking for is breathtaking," Hannah purred.

Eleanor swallowed hard, and could not remember how to speak. Probably she was suddenly aware of how low the dress Hannah wore fit her perfectly, and how plump her bottom lip looked as it curved into a smile.

"Cat got your tongue, Miss Waverley?" Hannah asked innocently as she stepped closer.

Eleanor could do nothing more than gaze back at her. Her face as red as a tomato.

Hannah slowly lifted her fingers and traced them along the edge of Eleanor's jawline. Eleanor's breath caught in her throat and she froze as Hannah pressed a searing kiss to her jaw.

"We don't have to do this," Hannah whispered. Her voice was low and serious.

Eleanor sensed this and moved her hands away. "I... I am ready.”

"Do you think so?” Hannah's eyebrows raised in surprise at the statement. “I don't want to destroy us. I don't want to do something we don't have to do, here or now. I'd wait a billion eternities for you, Eleanor."

Eleanor brushed a gentle hand down Hannah's face. "I’m not afraid.”

Hannah involuntarily gulped air but she took the verbal consent to fumble through Eleanor’s dress.

_This night was something I want her to remember._

The first few touches to Eleanor's body were careful. Calculated. Hannah was soft and slow and wanted to tease. Partially because she wanted Eleanor to know she could stop at any moment, partially because it was fun to watch the brunette to beg for more.

There was something intimate about not being completely naked, and as they touch each other, the friction the cloths gave them sent their nerve-endings through the roof.

When Hannah rolled Eleanor onto her back, she almost fainted. "God, you really are heavenly," Hannah whispered as she planted kisses all over Eleanor's jaw. She was about to removed Eleanor’s choker so she can plant kisses on her neck when Eleanor stopped her.

Her brown eyes were alarmed. “I’d like to keep my choker on, please.”

Hannah blinked at the request.

Red tint haunted Eleanor’s cheeks but at the same time, there was a deep sadness in the pool of her chocolate eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m ticklish in my neck.”

_I think there’s something more than that._

But she will let it go.

Hannah kissed her lips in reassurance. “No worries, I respect your boundaries.”

Eleanor nodded shyly. As soon as the ball started rolling again, Hannah flipped Eleanor’s skirt to kiss her bare stomach until finally, she reached her hips. Eleanor's toes curled slightly in anticipation. Hannah kissed Eleanor's inner thighs whilst she messed with her waistband. Eleanor pushed herself forwards impatiently, whining Hannah's name in a tormented gasp.

Hannah pulled the damp fabric of Eleanor's panties and gulped on seeing she was practically bare. A small tuft of coarse hair was all that presented itself above Eleanor's dripping entrance.

Hannah stared for a moment. “You... are... so... wonderful."

"Okay," Eleanor stammered, removing her skirt out of Hannah’s head to stare right back to her eyes. "I lied... I'm terrified..." she admitted, her voice almost an octave higher than before.

"Don't worry," Hannah said, softly caressing her cheek with the tips of her fingers. "You're in good hands." She took one of her cold, white hands and pressed her lips to her knuckles.

A mirthless chuckle escaped her lips. "I'm glad one of us knows what she's doing.”

After sharing a burst of small laughter, Hannah was determined to do her best to give Eleanor a wonderful experience. That wouldn't be difficult, however, as Eleanor shivered underneath the slightest touch.

Soft, warm fingers wrapped around her chilled ones and Hannah leaned her head so that their foreheads almost touched. Hannah wanted to see her eyes and her pleasure.

Returning under Eleanor’s skirt, Hannah gave in to temptation and began to play with Eleanor's wet folds. The brunette let out a tiny hiss and her legs twitched underneath her. Hannah slipped one finger in to see how Eleanor would react. When she responded with a wobbly moan Hannah took that as a sign she enjoyed this. She added another finger before beginning to curl against Eleanor's walls.

“Hannah! Please touch me,” she managed to mewl. Her fingers gripped the bedsheets.

Hannah feared she'd start crying if she didn't distract herself with something else. So she added her tongue to the mix. She licked by her entrance and felt her juices prickle on her tongue.

_Hell, she tasted absolutely amazing!_

Hannah could become addicted to having her in her mouth. She dragged her tongue up Eleanor's folds before swirling around her pulsing clit. She could become addicted to the way Eleanor was twitching and gasping underneath her. Hannah pressed the tip of her tongue lightly against her entrance and then slipped inside.

Eleanor was panting now. Thankfully she was quiet. Her body was covered in a thin layer of sweat. Hannah grabbed her by the thighs and shoved her tongue in deep, her nose brushing Eleanor’s clit. It was getting a little harder to breathe, but it was all worth it.

_All of this was for Eleanor and her pleasure. I’ll do everything to show her how much she means to me and how she deserves all the happiness._

Hannah touched her in all the right places. Eleanor felt so good to squeeze and massage. Her body was just so soft as if she were made of clouds. Hannah lost herself in tasting and touching Eleanor. She lost herself in her smell and her softness and her sound. Hannah didn't know how long it had been when Eleanor's back began to arch and her walls clenched up around her tongue.

_Shit, this feels so good._

Eleanor’s stomach heaved for a full minute from the orgasm. Hannah helped to massage her thighs before pulling away, her mouth was smeared with her creamy white honey. Eleanor blushed when she saw her, causing Hannah to smile, feeling proud of herself as she licked her lips.

"You okay?" Hannah panted, finally coming up for breath.

"I... am," Eleanor said, staring dazedly at the ceiling.

"Good."

Eleanor brought her stare to her then. "Hannah?"

Her blue eyes opened and she strained to sit up on her elbows, "Yes?"

"Hannah," came Eleanor's voice again, small and sleepy. "Please, come here."

"Hey, I'm here." Hannah croaked and crawled over to Eleanor, enjoying the sight that greeted her.

She wanted to commit this to memory, Eleanor's post-sex gaze was incredibly sexy and cute at the same time. Her lips were pursed and her hair was clung to her skin. And the angry earth in her stare had calmed. Tranquility flooded her vision again.

"Hannah," Eleanor said once more, reaching out her arms.

"I'm here," Hannah whispered and molded herself with Eleanor's body in an intimate embrace. They rolled into the middle of the bed and relaxed there. "I'm right here, I've got you.”

Hannah tried to ignore how desperate her voice was. She could not deny how protectively she was holding Eleanor though. Or how feverishly she stroked her hair. Or how her mind was trying to memorize Eleanor's scent. Roses.

"I wish we could stay like this." Eleanor murmured when her body had finally stilled.

Hannah didn't answer. She kissed Eleanor's jawline. And then she hummed a lullaby before Eleanor fell asleep.

_You're going to have to forgive me for what I’ll do, Eleanor. Please do._

Hannah could tell the girl was spent, but they cuddled each other and stayed like that for the longest moment.

* * *

**_Later, Hannah_** and Eleanor lied tangled in the bedsheets, the snow falling gently against the window panes. Hannah stroked Eleanor’s hair absentmindedly, fretting over what she has to do next.

_I hate lying to her… but this might be the only way to help her._

_Maybe one day she’ll understand. At least, I hope she will._

Just then, Hannah was startled by a sudden ringing.

_Crap! My phone!_

Hannah slowly took the phone and checked the screen.

_It’s Victor... maybe if I whispered, Eleanor won’t wake up._

Hannah accepted the call and raised the phone to her ear, keeping a careful eye on Eleanor.

“Hannah? Are you okay?” Victor said from the other line, probably right after his shift in the campus coffee shop. “How come I haven’t heard from you?”

“Hello?” she whispered. “Victor? It’s Hannah.”

“I... I can’t hear you. There’s a ton of white noise or something... Maybe the weather was causing problems. Look, if you can hear me out there, I’m getting worried about you. I’m going to drive up tonight to get you. I know you said not to come until you called, but... I haven’t heard anything from you. You shouldn’t be alone up there, Hannah. Just... just wait for me. I’ll be there in a few hours.”

Hannah exhaled as the line went dead, her pulse racing.

_This just got a lot more urgent._

Taking care not to wake Eleanor, Hannah slipped a hand inside Eleanor’s dress pocket and closed it around a smooth metal key. 

_Got it!_

Hannah slowly withdrew her hand from Eleanor’s dress, watching her face for any sign of detection. Her brows knitted in sudden irritation, and Hannah froze and quickly realized she made a mistake as Eleanor turned over in her sleep, trapping Hannah’s arm under her hip.

_Damn it!_

But Eleanor seemed to be a heavy sleeper, Hannah thanked Lady Luck or whoever was smiling upon her. Hannah carefully slipped her hand out of Eleanor’s dress and out from under her, Hannah’s heartbeat was nearly audible in the quiet room.

_That was way too close._

Hannah opened her hand and she looked down at the brass key sitting in her palm. She traced it a few more times, mulling it over.

Tiptoeing to the door, Hannah took a last look at Eleanor’s sleeping form. A pang of regret washed over her. She hated what she was doing to her but Hannah believed she could help her. Hannah went on with conviction.

_I’m sorry, Eleanor… please don’t hate me._

The wind outside started to howl with an incoming snowstorm. The guilt on her stomach might as well turn into sedimentary rock. With all four keys in Hannah’s possession, she stands before the locked door, the shadows pooling around her in the dark hallway.

_I don’t know what I’m about to uncover… but there’s no way it’s anything good._

_I just hope I’m doing the right thing._

She inserted the first key into the first lock, and it opened with a soft click. One by one, the locks fall away until none remain. The door remained still and silent, with no trace of the sound and fire of the previous night.

_All right, Eleanor… let’s see what you’re hiding._

The door swung open with an eerie creak, and Hannah found herself at the top of a flight of stone steps leading into the cellar. Across the room, the embers flare in a squat iron furnace, filling the cellar with an angry, red light.

_Thomas was right… it really is just a cellar._

_So why did Eleanor want it locked up? What was she so afraid of?_

Just then, Hannah heard a granting screech as the furnace door swung open on rusted hinges…

_What the…_

Then she heard it. The weeping from the night before. A muffled, hysterical sobbing that seemed to come from deep within the furnace itself. Hannah’s stomach roiled with fear. She tilted her head, attempting to take a peek through the small gap.

A skeletal hand emerged from the red throat of the furnace, its bony fingertips scrubbing on the cellar’s stone floor, scaring her out of her wits.

“Oh my god!” she screamed.

A hideous skull with long, stringy brown hair comes next, then another hand until finally, the horror pulls itself free of the furnace.

“Where are my children?” An ominous voice dripped with a hunger for blood.


	8. Secrets

She was watching the figure crawl out with an accumulating dread. Flames danced on the cellar walls as Hannah stared into the glowing eyes of the phantom advancing on her. This corpse was burned to the bones by the fire. 

“Move aside, girl… I must see my children.” The flaming corpse said, voice oozing with black tar. “It’s been so long since I’ve held them in my arms.”

Hannah’s legs went slightly wobbly, but she stayed firmly planted on the ground. “No, not before you tell me everything! I came here for answers... and I’m not leaving until I get them!”

It snarled at her with completely blacked-out eyes. “Then you won’t leave at all. Tell me where my children are!”

“No,” Hannah said through intense gripping fear. Blood pounded in her ears, pressed on by a rising heartbeat. “I won’t let you hurt them again! S-stay away from them!” 

“Hurt them? I could never do such a thing. You, on the other hand.” The specter moved impossibly fast, her skeletal hands locking Hannah’s head in a vise-like grip, her fingers digging into Hannah’s temples.

“Ghhh…”

Hannah’s vision started to blur as the pressure increased, the blood pounding in her head, her jaw clenching in pain. 

“Help… someone…” she said. Hysteria building as if she knew exactly what awaited her.

“Silence, child…” it whispered, shockingly gentle. “It’ll all be over soon.”

Hannah felt herself fading as the phantom squeezed harder. Her hands groping uselessly at the phantom’s wrists. In her moments before the blackout, her thoughts strayed to the graveyard Eleanor brought her earlier. 

“Stop!” Hannah summoned her last ounce of strength, she managed to eke out a final plea. “I know who you are... Rose.”

“That...” her endless eyes flicked up to Hannah. “That name… I’d nearly forgotten…”

Rose’s grip faltered for a mere second. Just long enough for Hannah to slip out of her clutches.

Hannah turned and ran, not even pausing to look over her shoulder, scraping her shins on the rough steps in a hurry to escape the cellar. She felt trapped, and an eerie sensation slid down her spine. The cellar seemed to be shaking, drumming, like a beating heart. Hannah wasn’t sure if it was merely her imagination induced fear or it was truly happening. 

She spilled out of the cellar into the hall, slamming the door behind her and hurrying to lock it once more.

_Why did there have to be four keys?_

She fumbled with the first key, her hands shaking uncontrollably. Hand outstretched as she prepared to lock at least one, and take off running if Rose so much as gain leverage.

“Come on, Come on!”

The door burst open knocking Hannah onto the floor and sending the keys flying out of her hands.

“No!” Heart beating a mile in a minute. She could only look at the Waverley Matriarch with trepidation.

“Did you think you’d just lock me away and forget me for another hundred years?” Rose loomed over Hannah, her clawing hands reaching down to choke the life from her. “You’re just like that wicked daughter of mine…”

“No… please!” she said. Death by asphyxiation becoming a real possibility.

Just then, there’s a sudden flash of red, and Eleanor stood over Hannah, wrenching her mother’s hands away from Hannah’s throat.

“What have you done, Hannah?” she yelled, bottled up with raging fury.

“E… Eleanor!” she squeaked out. “I… I’m s… so s… sorry!”

Rose’s skull face split in a hideous grin, a dry rattling laugh echoing up from her dusty throat. “Hello, daughter.”

Eleanor gritted her teeth, her eyes flashing with anger as she fought to keep her mother at bay. “You don’t get to call me that not after what you did!”

“Eleanor, she’s too strong! We have to run!” Hannah approached Eleanor carefully, grabbed her arm, and ran with her, losing themselves in the labyrinthine halls of Braidwood Manor.

Once they gained a good amount of distance from them, they slowed down and tried to catch their breaths.

“What was that, Eleanor?” Hannah yelled. “Why was your mother down there? And… and what happened to her?

“That’s none of your business, Hannah! I told you to stay out of it. Why couldn’t you just listen?”

“Because I want to help you!”

Eleanor glared at Hannah over her shoulder, and she felt the intensity of her anger like a stab of ice. Hannah was beginning to get afraid again, realizing that she may have crossed a line this time. 

“You can’t help me, Hannah,” she said, voice hollow and cold. “I want you gone from here… and I want you to never come back!”

The cruelty in her words made Hannah’s heart wrench. “Eleanor! I can’t leave you, I care about you too much! Most especially now! Not while you’re in danger.”

“You have to forget about me, Hannah. I’m… I’m sorry.” She had wiped her eyes and now they were just angry again, her sadness all burnt away. She looked at Hannah and pleaded: “Now, please… go!” 

Eleanor pressed hard against Hannah’s chest, and an inexorable force sent her flying backward through the halls. Her head began to spin, and Hannah felt an odd pulling sensation in her stomach. She wondered where the force was taking her as she kept moving, never slowing. Images whizzed by her with noticeable speed, but she could still make out the scenery.

Until she crashed through the manor’s heavy front doors. They snapped shut after her, leaving her alone in a crumpled heap on the steps of Braidwood Manor, with no way back in.

“Eleanor! Eleanor, please!”

As she got to her feet, the snow around her started to fall faster, the winds howling in a sudden gale. She raised an arm to shield her eyes against the growing storm.

And everything went black. 

* * *

_**Hannah woke** _ up to a loud click. A familiar cream sweater over a brown checked shirt greeted her vision. “Wha…?”

Victor looked up from fastening Hannah’s seatbelt, and a look of intense relief washed over his face. “Hannah… thank god you’re okay!” 

She found herself in the familiar passenger's seat of Victor’s car. 

“Victor!” Hannah pulled Victor in a tight hug. He squeezed her back before pulling away. 

“I’m happy to see you, too, but right now making sure you’re safe in my top priority. Just sit tight…” his hands returning to the wheel in front of him. “I’m getting you out of here, don’t worry.”

“No… Victor, I… I have to stay!”

“What?” he yelled, stopping from turning the engine on. “Why? What are you talking about?”

_Why indeed?_

Something at the back of her head berated her.

_You don’t get to play the hero now, Hannah. This is all your fault!_

Hannah barely registered what happened to her at her the Braidwood Manor. She was in a daze and found herself staring at the desolate snow-covered manor, attempting to commit every detail to memory. She wasn’t surprised when Eleanor literally threw her out. She knew that she deserved it. She had betrayed her trust after all. 

The thought caused her agony and she continuously wondered if the rest of her life would go as painfully as this past few days had. Her heart already ached every day at the constant reminders of her brother’s death, her strained relationship with her parents, and she began to believe that no matter what she would do, she would always hurt and couldn’t help people around her.

She thought of Eleanor and how she was different from everyone she has ever been close to. No one could ever match her eyes, her tender kisses, or her caring whispers. Eleanor wasn't just another girl. A tortured soul knows another when they see one. Hannah had seen the demons in her eyes, had seen her rage, and flinch when anger and regret consumed her. 

Eleanor understood her in a way not even her friends had managed and simply being comprehended entirely made Hannah feel like she had been gifted that day when she had first set foot in the Braidwood Manor.

In any case, Hannah thought that Victor was all she had ever needed. Everyone around them thought that she and Victor would end up together. For quite some time, Hannah was too, but she wasn’t too fond of the idea. Victor was a friend, a brother. He became much more than the one she had. 

It was peculiar how she now found herself attracted to someone who was essentially his complete opposite. And it was even more peculiar how this attraction was more intense than anything Hannah had ever felt before. With Victor, the feelings had been mild and rational. Built on a foundation of survival and longtime friendship. With Eleanor, the feelings were simply wild. With no logic at all beyond just the fact of the feelings themselves.

_Can I love with a broken heart?_

A stunning laugh came out of Hannah. She couldn't believe anything she was hearing but she was impressed at how Victor refrained from any judgments. “Victor, it’s real. It’s all real.”

“What’s real?”

“I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Did you…” he stammered. “Did you see something?”

“I… I didn’t just see something, I lived with them, Victor. The Waverleys, the ghosts, this house.” She said, comprehending that she sounded delusional, but the shame and the guilt that ate her inside was all too much. “I… I was supposed to protect them.”

Fresh tears stung Hannah’s eyes as Victor placed an uncertain hand on hers, his eyes sympathetic, but disbelieving.

“Look, Hannah,” he said. “I don’t know what you think happened in there, but… I found you. Lying in the snow half-frozen. I think you’re still in shock. We need to get you to the hospital.”

“I’m not in shock!” she screamed, aghast at whatever he’s been insinuating. “It all really happened. I’m not making this up, or imagining things, or… or anything!”

_If only there was some way to prove it all happened._

She felt something in her pocket and reaching down to pull out one of Simon’s tin soldiers. 

Victor blinked at the toy. “What is that?”

“Proof, Victor.” She held it higher for him to inspect. “Any toys in the manor would’ve been worn down by time, right?”

“But this one looks like it could’ve been made yesterday!”

“Exactly. This belongs to Simon, the youngest of the Waverley siblings.” 

A look of skepticism crossed his features once more. “I don’t know, Hannah. It could have been perfectly kept in a chest away from sunlight and water.”

The bluntness of that statement managed to dim Hannah’s smile. It seemed that convincing him was a lot harder than she anticipated. Then she looked down at her clothes, at the high-necked dress Eleanor lent her. “Look at what I’m wearing, Victor! You think I just happened to find a dress like this, perfectly preserved?” 

“I...” Victor was now lost for words. “I don’t know! How did you get it?”

“Eleanor lent it to me, so I wouldn’t feel so out of place.”

“Eleanor Waverley? The one you told me about when we drove up here?”

“Yes, Victor. She’s...” Hannah faltered. The demon inside her head started to chant her fault that the girl she liked couldn’t stand to see her ever again. “She’s still here. With all of her siblings. And they need my help!”

“Help?” he gawked. “How? You came here looking for your own answers. To try to explain whatever happened with your brother that you’ve been keeping secret.”

Hannah glanced out the window and didn't answer. That incessant voice in her head started to torment her again. A quick revelation dawned on her. “Victor, that’s it!”

She smiled as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

“It is?”

Hannah popped open the passenger’s side door and stepped back out into the cold. Victor followed her out into the snowstorm now howling across the grounds, hurrying after her as Hannah strode determinedly toward the manor.

“Hannah, where are you going?” he called.

“I’m going back in there, Victor. I know how I can save them.”

“What are you talking about? Save them from what?” 

“Eleanor’s been keeping a terrible secret from her siblings for years… She won’t tell them that they all died long ago. But most importantly, she won’t tell them how they died.”

Hannah stood once more before the doors of Braidwood Manor, Victor caught up to her and turned her around to face him. 

“Hannah,” he started. The worry lines in his face might soon start to become permanent. “I still don’t quite understand what happened to you in there. I don’t know what to make of any of this. But if you believe it, then I believe it. And I want to help. I’m sticking with you until the very end, Hannah… whatever that might bring.”

“Victor,” Hannah sighed. “This is my mess. Now I need to clean it up.”

Victor hung his head. “Fine. I know it’s no use arguing with you… but I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

_If only Victor knew how far away ‘right outside’ really is…_

Victor moped like a dejected dog who has done nothing but stay completely loyal. The sight of him made her feel remorseful for her brashness. “I’m sorry Victor, it’s just... I don’t want to put you in danger.”

“In danger?” he said, shock flickered in his eyes. “Don’t you realize how that sounds? As much as you might want to protect me… I want to protect you, too.”

A smile crept up her lips. “Thank you. I don’t think I can do this alone.”

“Then it’s decided.” He grinned. “I’m coming with you. Whatever you’ve gotten yourself caught up in... We’ll finish it together.”

Hannah nodded, not knowing what to say to Victor’s incredible friendship and forbearing. She remembered back in high school where they first met. They stared at the looming work down manor before them. 

“Before we go there,” Hannah broke the silence. “I just want to say... I’m lucky to be your friend.”

“Damn right you are. Who else would follow you into a house full of killer ghosts?”

“They’re not killer ghosts, Victor! Well, not all of them...” her thoughts went back to Eleanor’s mother. “But yeah, point taken.”

“Glad to hear it.”

They pushed through the doors and stepped once more into the foyer of Braidwood Manor. Hannah looked around to find it returned to its present-day condition, with broken furniture scattered around the room and dust everywhere.

Victor had come lagging behind her and stood back slightly to watch what she was going to do. “You... you said you lived here? I don’t understand, Hannah.”

“It... it didn’t look like this, okay?” she said. “There’s another manor, or another world or something.”

“What?”

“Look, I know it sounds crazy, but I don’t know how to explain it! I...I need Eleanor to let me back in.”

Hannah stared out in the foyer. She knew Eleanor was there. On the other side, listening, watching her. Invisible, perhaps imaginary to anyone but her. She just has to reach out.

“Eleanor! Please let me come back! I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you… I’m sorry for everything!”

There’s no reply… only the sound of her pleas echoing through the manor. Hannah had no idea what will come next.

“Hannah,” Victor interrupted. “Are you sure you—”

“Yes, I’m sure!” she snarled, letting her frustration get the better of her for a moment. “Just... just give me a second.”

The thought of Eleanor ignoring her caused a cavity in her chest. Hannah’s flare of temper cooled a bit.

Her shoulders began to shake. “Eleanor, please,” she pleaded, her voice was soft and breathless. “If you can hear me… I think I know how to stop this! I think I know how to save your siblings!”

“Hannah,” Victor said. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t think it’s going to—”

At last, the walls around them start to shift, stopping Victor’s speech. Broken chairs are made whole again, and the fallen chandelier floated back up to the rafters like a glittering jellyfish.

“Thank you, Eleanor,” Hannah said, the corners of her lips tugging into a smile. “I’ll try not to let you down this time.”

_I won’t mess my second chance. Not at all._

“Oh my god...” Victor gasped, looking like he’s about chicken out.

“Now do you believe me?” she snapped.

“I... y-yes!”

Looking around, she found no sign of the Waverleys, and she felt herself starting to get nervous.

_Where are they? I hope they aren’t hurt…_

Just then, the door to the parlor opened a crack, and Hannah saw Eleanor inside, beckoning her to come and join her.

“Hurry, Hannah! In here!”

Her eyes glowed at the sight of her. A gasp of relief flooded Hannah and she quickly made her way towards her. “Eleanor, thank god you’re okay!”

“Was that...?” Victor began.

Hannah grabbed Victor and started to pull him across the foyer toward the parlor door. It was not the time to be love-struck. She has to bring everyone to safety. 

“Yes, it was! Now come on!” As the words leave her mouth, she heard a dry, rasping voice that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Hannah,” she cooed. “So nice of you to return.”

The ghost of Mrs. Waverley glided down the stairs, the scorched hem of her dress trailing behind her. “How rude of you to leave without properly introducing yourself. I expected my Eleanor’s sweetheart to be well-mannered than this. I look forward to finishing our little game…”

“What is that thing?” Victor had been watching with a look close to horror on his face.

“I’ll explain later, just—”

“Don’t look at her, Hannah,” Eleanor screamed through her hiding place. “Just run!”

Hannah and Victor sprinted across the foyer, but Mrs. Waverley was too fast. She struck towards the center of the room like a fiery comet, blocking their path.

“Leave my children alone!” Rose gripped Hannah with a clawed hand, and she felt her skin blistering at her touch.

Hannah tried to run, but Mrs. Waverley tightens her grip in her. Hannah screamed as the pain in her arm intensified. 

“Hannah, hurry!” 

Eleanor’s voice called out to her, reverberating within her chest. Giving her exactly the strength and the motivation to return to her quickly and well.

“Aahhh! Get off me!” Hannah lashed out at the phantom, clocking her in the jaw and making Rose release her grip on Hannah.

_I can’t believe that worked!_

“Damn!” Victor yelled in a mixture of awe and fright.

Mrs. Waverley recoiled as flames flared up all over her body. She turned her attention on Victor and lunged. She was fast, and she was agile. Victor went on the defensive for a few moments before Hannah pulled him away.

“Come on, Victor, let’s go!”

With Mrs. Waverley distracted, the two of them dashed across the foyer and into the parlor. Eleanor slammed the door shut behind her.

Hannah refrained herself from jumping to Eleanor’s arms. “Are we safe in here?”

“We’re not safe anywhere, Hannah. Not with… her roaming the halls.” Eleanor looked like she was restraining herself as well. 

The other members of the house gathered. Clarissa, Thomas, and Simon, all three dark brown-haired youth in a row of ascending height, and watching the commotion. 

“Eleanor,” Simon asked, his face scrunched up in distraught. “Who is that woman? She said… she said that she—”

“She said she was our mother!” Thomas shouted, finishing what his brother couldn’t.

“What aren’t you telling us?” Clarissa asked. The usual glow in her eyes has faded.

“I wouldn’t mind an explanation myself.” Victor awkwardly raised his hand to get everybody’s attention.

“Who are you, anyway?” Eleanor hissed. She was furious. Her fist tightened convulsively around her other hand.

“Sorry, Eleanor.” Hannah interrupted before things go out of hand. “This is my friend, Victor. He... he wants to help.”

Eleanor met Hannah’s eyes and released a breath. Her eyes started to fill with tears, but her voice, when she spoke, was steady and tender. “I’m afraid we’re beyond help. I... I just wanted to protect the children.” She turned to her siblings. “I… I was just trying to protect you, I promise! But I’ve only succeeded in dooming us all.”

“What do you mean, Eleanor?” Simon asked. “What does that… that woman—our mother—want with us?”

“What were you protecting us from?” Clarissa asked.

“I… I can’t tell you, darling. I just… can’t.” Her frustrations had been quite thoroughly gone out of her.

The parlor door shuddered as something slammed against it, the wood splintering at the hinges.

“Leave us alone, you monster! Haven’t you already done enough?” she screamed, flashing a murderous glare at the door.

As the door started to give, Hannah took Eleanor’s hand in hers, staring into her eyes with a fierce determination. “Eleanor, we’ve both held onto our secrets for far too long. We can’t go on like this any longer.”

“But…” The tears brimming in the dark brown eyes spilled over, but Eleanor’s voice still didn’t waver. “I just can’t, Hannah, don’t you understand?”

“I know it’s hard, Eleanor… but you have to tell them. You have to tell them everything. These secrets are what’s keeping you all trapped here. This… this is the only way to set your siblings free.”

Eleanor looked down, her eyes filling with tears as her mother raged outside the door.

“I… I can’t do it, Hannah!”

“You have to! Or it’ll be this way forever!” Hannah took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she’s about to say. “If it’ll make things easier… I’ll tell you my greatest secret. The one I’ve never told anyone. The one that’s kept my brother trapped between worlds all this time.” 


	9. Confessions

“Hannah, are you sure you want to do this?” Victor gasped, the hurt was laced in his voice. He looked at her like he just stabbed her. “You couldn’t even tell me exactly what’s bothering you about it.”

She paid him no mind. Hannah and Eleanor stood facing each other across the parlor, the rest of the Waverleys and Victor looking on in awe.

“But,” Eleanor said, her jaw slackened. “But you were so unwilling to talk about your brother’s death before!”

“That’s exactly the problem. My secrets kept him stranded, unable to pass on.”

“Hannah, you never told us you had a brother!” Clarissa said.

“What happened to him?” Simon asked.

“And what exactly do you mean by ‘unable to pass on’?” Thomas added.

“Well, Eleanor? Should I tell them?”

Eleanor hung her head, her eyes downcast. “Share your secret, Hannah I’ll… I’ll try to do the same.”

“Thank you, Eleanor.” Hannah took a deep breath, fighting back the tears forming in her eyes. “A year ago, my brother was home from college for the holidays. He went to a party with some friends, but when he drove back that night. He… he went off the road. Missed the turn and shot straight off the lip of the ravine.”

“That’s awful…” Thomas said, a slight tense on his brows. “I’m sorry, Hannah.”

“Thank you, Thomas.” the corners of her lips twitching upward before it disappeared completely. “But it gets worse. My parents and I were called out to identify the body. I’ve never cried so hard in my life. I was still crying when I got home and found his… his letter.”

“You never mentioned a letter before,” Victor said.

“I know.”

“Hannah,” Eleanor said. “You don’t have to tell us everything if you don’t want to.”

“That’s just it, Eleanor… I do!” Hannah moved to the window and looked out the moonlit snow, the frost forming crystalline patterns on the glass. “It… it wasn’t an accident. When Jonathan left the house that day, he knew he wouldn’t be coming home. My brother wanted to die, and I had no idea. I failed him… and even worse, I lied to cover it up.”

Victor gasped. “What do you mean?”

“How did you cover it up?” Eleanor asked.

“I… I destroyed the letter.” She continued. “I never told our parents, or his friends, or anyone.” Hannah turned around, her eyes finding Eleanor’s. 

_Can you feel my tears, Eleanor? They won't dry. Same as yours._

Eleanor looked back at Hannah, her face was stricken. “Hannah… I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“Neither did I,” Victor said.

“My brother’s ghost called me a ‘liar’ before and I didn’t want to admit it, but that’s what I am. I’ve been lying to everyone in my life since the day he died. But that ends today!” Hannah paused for a second as if she wanted to keep being angry, but then a tentative sad smile came over her lips and she shook her head. Her gaze landed on Eleanor’s shocked face and her eyes went even softer. “Jonathan, if you can hear this… I’m sorry. I told myself I was protecting your memory, but the truth is I wasn’t ready to forgive you and I couldn’t face telling our parents.”

Hannah listened for any sign of her brother and hear nothing but silence.

“Wait a second… when did it get this quiet?” Hannah asked.

Just then, the door of the parlor exploded inwards, a roar of flame ripping through the room.

Everybody screamed as a red mist descended over their visions. Flames spread out, burning the room surrounding them. A shiver of déjà vu slid down her spine.

“Get back, all of you!” Eleanor demanded with an air of authority. Her siblings quickly stepped back and stood behind her for safety.

Mrs. Waverley loomed in the wreckage of the doorway, her eyes glowing with hatred, the wasted skin around her teeth pulled back in a sneer. “Why have you shut me out again, Eleanor? Afraid to tell your siblings the truth?

“What is she talking about, Eleanor?” Thomas asked, his voice slightly shaking.

“Please… just tell us!” Clarissa shouted.

Before Eleanor can reply, the ghost of Mrs. Waverley crossed the room in a streak of red-hot flame, lunging for her daughter’s throat.

Hannah knew she couldn’t get there in time but it didn’t stop her to try.

“No!” Hannah nearly skidded the ground just to reach Eleanor and push her out of the way, but when a figure appears between Rose and Eleanor. “Jonathan?”

Jonathan gritted his teeth, on hand clenched around Mrs. Waverley’s outstretched arm, and he shifted his gaze onto Hannah. “Hello, sister.”

“Oh my god...” Victor collapsed to his rear end, scared out of his mind

“Jonathan, I’m so, so sorry! I should’ve known that you were… that you…”

“You couldn’t have known,” Jonathan said, reassuring his sister as he gripped the other ghost tighter. “Don’t blame yourself. By telling my story… you’ve set me free. But before I go… maybe I can do one good thing after all.”

“Release me, you pathetic creature!” Mrs. Waverley sounded like a wounded animal, howling with sobs that would have kept others away without hesitation.

Jonathan winced as Rose clawed at his face, leaving deep, dark gouges in his blistered skin. “You won’t keep me from my children!”

“I can’t hold on much longer, Hannah,” he said. “You have to end this now.”

“Eleanor!” Hannah approached her. “It’s time! You have to tell them… you have to tell them everything!”

She expected Eleanor to push her away. But, to her surprise, Eleanor clung to her. Her thin fingers grabbed Hannah and kept her close, not allowing her the option of pulling away if she wanted to.

Eleanor’s lip quivered. She studied Hannah’s face for a while in silence. Eleanor’s anguish grew. She couldn’t hide it any longer. “I… I don’t know if I can Hannah!”

“You can! Okay? You can!” Hannah gave her an understanding look and drew her face near hers to ease her worry. “I’m here, with you.”

Her lip trembled for a moment, then a look of steely resolve came over her face. “Very well.”

She reached up to the black band of fabric around her neck and undid a clasp at the back, letting it fall aside to reveal an ugly gash of a knife wound deep across her neck.

“No!” Mrs. Wavereley screamed.

“Eleanor!” Clarissa cried out. “What… what happened to you?”

“I’m sorry, darling,” Eleanor said, a trickle of blood dripped from her neck. “But… she did this. Our mother.”

Their mother growled. “Silence, you little—”

“She… she murdered us.” Eleanor continued. “All of us. I’m so sorry I have to tell you like this… But she poisoned the three of you, and when I found out… she did… this.”

“So…” Simon said, his face distraught.

“So we’re…” Clarissa trailed off.

“Dead.” Thomas finished, but his demeanor was crestfallen.

Hannah couldn’t bear to look at their loss faces.

Mrs. Waverley howled in pain as her body erupted in a column of flame. Waves of heat rolling off her as she rages against Jonathan's grip.

“You stole so much from us, Mother.” Eleanor snarled, venting out all of her rage and frustrations. “All because you were so afraid of everything!”

Rose screamed as her bones turned to ash and began to flake away, her ribcage collapsing inwards as the fire she had once can control consumed her. “I was protecting you! The world outside these walls is too dangerous! I couldn’t risk losing you like I lost your father!”

“You didn’t lose him, you fool! He survived the war… he was the one who found us!”

“He… what? I…” she at least had the decency to appear ashamed for the way she had treated them. 

Before she can say another word, Mrs. Waverley faltered and collapsed to the ground, her flames finally gone out. She was nothing more than a charred skeleton.

“William… forgive me.”

“He’s gone, Mother,” Eleanor said, glaring at her but again there seemed to be far more hurt in her eyes than anger. “And where you’re going… you’ll never see him again.”

The bones shatter into dust as they hit the floor. They took a deep breath. Relief finally flooded them.

“It’s… it’s finally over.” Eleanor stumbled backward and fell onto the sofa behind her, gripping the arm for support. Her hands fumbled at her throat as she reattached the black band, a faraway look in her eyes.

Hannah wanted to go to her, but for some reason, it felt better to give her a little distance.

“Eleanor…” Simon headed towards her older sister. “What are we? Are we… ghosts?”

Eleanor pulled Simon onto her lap and kissed the top of his head. “Yes, Simon. I’m sorry, but, that’s the truth.” She looked up at Clarissa and Thomas. “I know how angry with me you must be. I… I should’ve told you ages ago. I just couldn’t bear to hurt you like that.”

Clarissa and Thomas crossed the room to sit beside Eleanor.

“We understand, Eleanor.” Clarissa wrapped her arms around her older sister’s neck. “If I’d been in your place...”

“I can only imagine how difficult this has been for you…” Thomas agreed.

Eleanor’s eyes fill with tears, and she pulled her siblings into a tight hug. 

Hannah had been watching them in silence and was taken out of her stupor when Victor placed his hand on her shoulder.

“I think you have a family of your own to talk to, Hannah.” He said.

Hannah turned away from the Waverley’s to see Jonathan watching, a strange look in his eye. “Jonathan,” she said. “Thank you for saving them. For saving me.”

Jonathan nodded slowly, seeming not to hear her.

She tried again. “Jonathan?”

Jonathan tore his eyes away from Eleanor and her siblings and faced Hannah. “I was just thinking back on how things used to be. After everything, these kids went through… the fact that they still love and trust each other. It makes me… ashamed.”

“Jonathan, you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Hannah’s brother didn't know what to say but his expression seemed to soften a little when he looked at her. “I do. I... I was so angry at you for lying about me. I should never have frightened you like that. I suppose I wasn’t entirely myself but in some ways... I was.”

Hannah seemed saddened at all this, albeit reserving judgment, but she vented it out gently. “Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling so… hopeless?”

“I guess I didn’t know how. And… I’d convinced myself that no one would’ve cared, anyway.” Jonathan stood there, guilty but unyielding.

“I would’ve.” 

“I know that now. Still… thanks to you, I’ll finally be able to find peace.”

Hannah wanted to head over to him and hug him, but she wasn’t sure if Jonathan would allow it. They weren’t affectionate for so long now, doing it unexpectedly would be out of the ordinary. 

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Hannah said. “But I’m glad I got to say goodbye.”

He snickered. “Me too, sis.”

Jonathan started to fade away before her eyes, enveloped by a gentle, white light.

“Goodbye, Jonathan… I love you!”

“I love you too, Hannah.”

Once he was gone, Hannah turned back to the Waverley’s as tears flowed down her cheeks, and Eleanor smiled sadly at her.

“Are you okay, Hannah?” she asked.

“I…” she gasped, wiping the tears away. “Yeah, I think so. You?”

“I think so.” Eleanor stood clasping her hands together, resting lightly on her stomach. “Let’s step into the foyer for a moment. It seems we have a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah, I’d say so.” 

“I’ll be right back, you three,” Eleanor told her siblings. “And then… well, we’ll figure it out when we get there.”

Hannah met Victor’s eyes. “I’ll be right back, Victor.”

Victor looked flabbergasted at being left to babysit three ghost children, but he couldn’t refuse. “Sure thing.” He turned to the Waverley children. “So, how’s it going?”

Hannah chuckled softly as she followed Eleanor out to the foyer. Eleanor closed the door gently behind her and they left without any more words.

Once they were alone, Hannah thought of the things she wanted to tell her.

“So…” Hannah said, awkwardly.

“So.”

“It feels good to...” Hannah started. “To finally tell the truth. I feel like a huge weight’s been taken off of me.”

“As do I,” Eleanor replied, mirroring her smile. “I want to thank you, Hannah, for everything you’ve done for us… If you hadn’t come along, who knows how long I would’ve waited to tell my siblings the truth?”

“So…” she smiled at the sentiment, her heart aglow. “You’re not mad that I took your key while you were sleeping?”

“I was wondering how you did that. No, I’m… I’m not mad. If you hadn’t, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. But… I guess it does make me a little worried that your feelings weren’t genuine.” 

Eleanor’s eyes were round and dark and they looked at Hannah searchingly, as though all she needed to see was confirmation. So Hannah cupped her face with her hand and gave Eleanor the gentlest smile she could manage. 

“Eleanor, my feelings are genuine. I didn’t want to deceive you like that… but I only did it to help you. Because I care about you so much.”

“I was hoping you’d say that… I feel the same way.”

“Eleanor, I hope this isn’t crossing a line, but… there’s still so much I don’t understand about… about what happened to you and your siblings.”

“I… I don’t like to think about it. But I’ll answer one more question…”

Hannah knew that it was taking a toll on her Eleanor, but the thought of today was the last time to see each other, she had no idea how she could cope with this loss. She hated to admit that she craved some sort of last intimacy before the last affectionate farewell. 

“There’s just one thing I want to know why was your mother’s body never found?”

Eleanor looked away, her expression pained. “My mother was… not well, Hannah. When it was all over, she… she crawled into the furnace and shut the door behind her.”

“Oh my god. Eleanor, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s… it’s all right. I can’t blame you for wondering. But I’d rather call this over, once and for all.”

Hannah nodded, but inside her head was turmoil.

It wasn’t enough, but she couldn’t bring herself to be selfish. Something had shifted in her for the last few days. She wanted more of Eleanor. She wanted to know everything about her life, which Eleanor did partly share, only in passing comments but never in detail. She wanted to spend more time with her. Time in which they don’t have the luxury anymore.

Hannah attempted not to think about the future. She had to focus on the here and now, but she was unable to. The thought of Eleanor, and her siblings crossing the bridge to the other side where she cannot follow created a deeper chasm within her chest.

She knew she was supposed to be happy for them. Finally, they are free from this mortal coil, from the dimension in between life and death, but she couldn’t stop wishing that there should be another way.

It wasn't until a thin finger tapped her chin and drew her gaze that she finally realized she had been spaced out.

"Are you alright?" Eleanor asked, dark chocolate eyes brimming with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she stuttered out, feeling flushed at the proximity. Eleanor's finger was still gently pressed to the underside of her chin.

“We should return to the others,” Eleanor suggested, and Hannah could only nod in response.

Eleanor grabbed a hold of Hannah's hand and pulled her back where the others were. Hannah found herself sighing contentedly at the feeling of the woman's hand in her own. It was soft and warm—fitting perfectly against her own.

Her heart rate quickened and she stamped the feeling down to save herself from future heartbreak.

Hannah and Eleanor returned to the parlor to find the Waverley children still together on the sofa while interrogating Victor about the modern world.

“Have there been any significant advances in the field of entomology?” Simon asked.

“Forget bugs!” Clarissa intervened. “What’s the most popular ten-penny romance?”

“Um... what?” Victor asked, visibly sweating. When he noticed he was saved, he shot Hannah and Eleanor a grateful look. “Please rescue me.”

“Children,” Eleanor said with an air of superiority. “Leave this poor young man alone.”

“So…” Simon looked up to the eldest. “What happens now, Eleanor?”

“Is it…” Clarissa’s face fell. “Time for us to... go?”

Eleanor placed a gentle hand on her sister’s cheek. “I’m afraid so, Clarissa. But it’s not so bad, is it?”

“At least we’ll be together,” Thomas said.

“And maybe we’ll see Father!” Simon gasped in excitement.

“Exactly. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Eleanor gathered her siblings around her and held them close. “Just… close your eyes, and let yourself fall away. I’m right here.”

Clarissa’s brown eyes stared at Hannah’s blue ones. “Goodbye, Hannah! Thank you for… for everything.”

“We’ll miss you!” Simon added. “Even Thomas.”

Thomas’ blue eyes shone sadly. “I suppose I’m a little sorry to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye everyone,” Hannah said. “I hope we see each other again someday.”

The Waverley children closed their eyes, holding tight to Eleanor, and the room filled with a soft white light. Hannah felt a tear roll down her cheek as the light grew brighter still until it’s so bright she had to close her eyes. 

When she opened her eyes, she found herself and Victor alone in the room with Eleanor. 

“I... I can’t believe this is happening…” Victor said.

Eleanor choked back a sob, her eyes suddenly bright, and Hannah crossed the room to pull her into a hug.

Now came the difficult part. Hannah knew that she was going to be heartbroken, but she had to stay strong for Eleanor. The prospect of what could have been and leaving hurt Eleanor more than it did for her.

“It’s okay…” Hannah said.

Eleanor’s eyes fill with tears in response and felt Hannah’s small hand stroke her back gently. “I just… I wish it didn’t have to be like this. We had our whole lives ahead of us...”

The vulnerability in Eleanor’s eyes made Hannah's chest clench and she reached out to cup Eleanor's face. Her breath caught in her throat when Eleanor leaned into the touch and a soft sigh slipped through her lips.

Hannah held onto her as Eleanor cried into her shoulder, then Hannah pulled back to face her. She pulled Eleanor closer and pressed her lips against hers, kissing her through Eleanor’s tears.

Eleanor began to move her lips against hers and after a while, she put her arms around Hannah’s neck. It felt like an eternity since Hannah had kissed her last even though it had hardly been a day. Eleanor’s face was so smooth under her hand and her lips were so wonderfully soft.

The fact that Eleanor wanted to stay with her meant that she liked her. Eleanor wanted to spend time with her. Even if she couldn't put it into words just yet, Hannah could feel it in her kiss, her lips, her body itself.

Eleanor tasted bittersweet.

“Goodbye, Hannah…” her voice cracked when she spoke.

The room slowly filled with the same bright, white light, and Hannah started to feel Eleanor’s body growing warmer in her arms. Hannah felt a strange floating sensation and she opened her eyes.

“Eleanor!” 

Hannah and Eleanor floated above the parlor, surrounded by an intense light. 

Eleanor blinked at Hannah, her eyes wide. “Hannah… I feel… I feel different!” She felt under her collar, and her eyes went wider still. “My scar… it’s gone!”

“What does that mean?”

Eleanor gasped and pressed Hannah’s hand to her chest.

“What are you—Oh!” Hannah felt Eleanor’s heart beating beneath her hand, she watched as Eleanor's eyes brightened. Her lip twitched upward in the faintest curve of a smile. “How is this possible?”

“I don’t know! But isn’t it amazing?” she asked, a small smile forming in her lips. “I feel like… like I’ve been given a second chance. Like there are two paths open to me… Do you think… do you think I should stay here? In your world?”

Her voice held notes of fear and uncertainty, and Hannah felt her heart melt a little. “I think… I want you to stay!”

“Are you sure?” she looked at her questioningly.

Without any hesitation, Hannah yelled. “I’m sure!”

Eleanor held Hannah tighter still, afraid to let go. The light gently faded as the two of them drift back down to the floor together. Hannah reveled in the fact that Eleanor has been given a second chance. If there was anyone who really deserved it, it was her. She had to thank whichever forces of nature that allowed this to happen.

Victor blinked as his eyes readjust to the change in lighting, and his mouth fell open. “Wait... what the... what just happened?”

“Turns out I’ll be staying after all!” Eleanor said. A smile formed in her lips, removing any more traces of distress.

“Hannah,” he said, turning to her. “I don’t understand, how is this—”

“Possible?” she asked. “No clue. But to be honest, I’m done asking questions.”

Victor shrugged. “Works for me.”

She took a deep breath and met Eleanor’s gaze. “So… now that you’ve got your whole life ahead of you, what do you want to do first?”

“Honestly?” she tucked some stray hair behind her ears. “I just want to get out of this house.”

“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do.” She said before addressing Victor. “Think you could fit one more in your car, Victor?”

“I think I can make it work,” he replied.

Hannah led Eleanor outside to find the storm subsided and breathed a sigh of relief. 

Victor pressed the button to unlock his car. “Ready to go?”

“Definitely,” Hannah said, opening the door of Victor’s car for Eleanor.

Eleanor paused to take a last look at Braidwood Manor before getting in.

“Not having second thoughts, are you?” Hanna asked.

“No, not exactly,” she said, her gaze slightly glassy. “Just wondering if I’ll ever come back here.”

Hannah reached down to take Eleanor’s hand in hers. “If you ever want to come back… I’ll come with you.”

“Thanks, Hannah. But for now… I think I’m ready to say goodbye.”

* * *

 ** _A few days_** later, they had managed to settle into a semblance of comfortable normalcy during the next days. With her upper-middle-class connections, Hannah had the connections to able to procure a birth certificate for Eleanor to help her blend in the 21st century.

Hannah and Eleanor walked across the Hartfeld campus, gentle snow falling around them.

“Are you sure I look okay, Hannah?” Eleanor said, fiddling with a gold necklace. She was clad in a black top and a gray cardigan, complemented with a sapphire ring on her finger and another gold necklace that looked like a vine enwrapping her wrist. “These modern clothes feel so strange on me…”

Underneath that old but sophisticated clothing was a fine-looking young woman. Eleanor had an almost perfect hourglass shape, with her hips just a tad bit wider than her shoulders. The jeans she wore showed off her lean legs, perfectly proportioned to her lithe frame.

Hannah looked up into Eleanor's eyes and felt a warm glow in her chest despite the biting cold. “Trust me, Eleanor, you look gorgeous.”

Eleanor smiled, her hand finding Hannah’s. “Thank you, Hannah.”

The bell over the door rung as they enter the campus coffee shop and Victor grinned at them from behind the counter.

“Hey, you two. What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have a hazelnut macchiato,” Hannah said.

Eleanor’s eyes skimmed over the menu above their heads, overwhelmed. “Just tea, thank you.”

“Coming right up.” He said overenthusiastically. “I’d sit down to chat, but we’re about to have the lunch rush in here, and Brandon would kill me if I flaked.”

“No worries, I’m sure we can find some way to entertain ourselves,” Hannah said, grinning at Eleanor before she understood the message and pulled a grin of her own.

Once they received their drinks, they walked toward a booth at the back of the shop.

A comfortable silence encased them as they sipped their drinks and watched the people that flitted in and out of the shop. Hannah heard someone calling her name and turned around.

It was Kaitlyn Liao, an Asian girl with long black hair. She was with two other guys. “I thought that was you, Hannah! Why don’t you come sit with us?”

“Oh… okay!” Hannah flinched. For the past few weeks, Hannah hasn’t exactly been social. So when a classmate of hers called her, she was quite surprised. “Is that alright with you, Eleanor?”

Hannah felt Eleanor tense. Ever since the past few days, Eleanor was anxious about not fitting in. Although she has been a fast learner, there were still a few haywires. Hannah reached for her hand instantly to console her that she wasn’t alone. Eleanor shot her a grateful smile.

“I don’t mind,” she said, meekly. 

Hannah and Eleanor grabbed their drinks with their free hands and joined Kaitlyn and two of her friends at their table.

“Hannah’s in my Anthro class,” Kaitlyn told her friends. “Hannah, this is Zack and Tyler.”

Both boys greeted their respective ‘hey’s and ‘hi’s.

“So…” Kaitlyn started, her dark brown eyes shining mischievously. “Are you going to introduce us to your friend? I definitely haven’t seen her around before.” 

“My name is Eleanor Waverley. And you are?”

“Kaitlyn Liao. Are you an exchange student? Your accent…”

“Oh, that… yes, I’m originally from England. But I’ve lived here for—” she strayed off, meeting Hannah's eyes before her the corner of her lips twitched into a smile. “Well, a long time.”

“Oh, that explains it!” Kaitlyn gushed. “So, Hannah… Zack and I have a little bet going. Are you and Eleanor, like, ‘together’?”

“Uh…” Hannah glanced at Eleanor for permission who gave her a curt nod. She let the silence stretch for a moment and then she spoke again. “Yes, we are.”

A huge smile formed in Kaitlyn’s lips. “Looks like someone owes me five bucks.”

“Damn. I can’t believe I got that wrong!” Zack said. “My gaydar should be far more superior!”

“Sorry about them, you two,” Tyler said. “They’re always nosing into other people’s love lives.”

“You’re one to talk!” Zack chided in. “As I recall, you took a lot interest in—”

As Zack and Tyler start bickering, Kaitlyn shot Hannah and Eleanor a commiserating look.

“Are they always like this?” Eleanor asked.

“More or less,” Kaitlyn shrugged. “But you get used to it. We should all hang out more often. I feel like I never see you outside of class, Hannah.”

That was true. She mostly kept to herself, studying alone and learning about local legends and myths due to depression. 

“Yeah, I’ve had a bit of a rough year,” Hannah admitted. “But I’m ready to, you know, come out of my shell, I guess.”

“Awesome. We’re having a party at our suite this weekend,” Kaitlyn said. “You should meet the rest of my friends and my girlfriend. Think you two could squeeze us into your schedule?”

“What do you think, Eleanor?” Hannah asked her, even though the answer was plain in her eyes.

“I think that sounds lovely.”


End file.
